Visibility
by aerielynn
Summary: AU - When a tragic accident separates Harm and Mac, can Harm recover soon enough to see what's been right in front of him all along?  Harm/Mac shipperness, some suggestive themes, sporadic strong language, some violence
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: First off, thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed "Instinct"! It means a ton to me. :) My goal with my fan fic is to write stories that authentically capture each of the JAG characters' personalities and emotions, creating pieces that can easily be inserted in between the episodes we all know and love as if they were a natural part of the series. I hope I'm able to continue doing that successfully! Of course, I have a tendency to have a Harm/Mac shipper slant on my work.

WARNING: This story is very AU, which normally I don't do. (But I thought it'd be interesting!) This piece is my sophomore JAG fan fic and it is darker than "Instinct." I imagine this to be set in Season 10, directly after "Heart of Darkness". If this story were an actual episode, none of the episodes after HOD would've occurred. I have taken some minor geographical and other liberties throughout, but have tried to remain as true as possible. Anyway, I can't wrap my brain around Zulu time, as much as I've tried, so this is set in standard 24-hour time. I've rated this T, but I will say there might be a couple borderline-ish M moments, just to be safe - suggestivity (Is that a word? It should be!), some language (four-lettered words), some violence and the like. With, of course, H/M shipperness. :)

DISCLAIMER: "La Nave del Olvido" ("The Ship of Oblivion") belongs to Jose Jose - I'm just borrowing this beautiful song and its lyrics. Oh, and I don't own JAG. If I did, it'd still be on the air. I'm just saying. (wink)

Enjoy!

xxxxxxxxxx

VISIBILITY  
>by aerielynn<p>

September 01, 2005  
>0253 Zulu<br>Harm's Apartment

Quiver. She made him quiver. The way her creamy smooth skin elicited goose-flesh from every inch of his body as she pressed against him, olive and bare, made his heart race faster than any of the 9.5-G turns he'd ever maneuvered in the cockpit of a Tomcat.

Her long neck stretched slightly in her slumber, her chin burrowing gently in the space just to the side of his left pectoral, where she lay naked, nestled in his arms. His deep, contented breaths from his nostrils made the strands of her silky, long dark chocolate hair dance; his right hand carefully lifted to smooth them away from her now closed eyes. Brushing a section of bangs from her face, his thumb carefully traced her cheekbone, her flesh still heated from their rendezvous an hour or so before.

The touch caused her to stir, and she reached blindly with her hand over his bare chest, her eyes still shut. Automatically, his right hand latched onto hers, stroking it reassuringly. He pulled both of their hands to his lips, pressing them against her hand, and then pressing it down onto his chest.

He could feel her smile as her face shifted on his body. He knew she was awake - she was such a light sleeper, with her usual struggle with insomnia and all - but he still quietly observed her, lost in a reverie of the way she fit so perfectly in his arms.

With a soft moan, she lifted her head and gave him a sleepy grin, her eyes adjusting to the light in the room. "Hey," she murmured, scanning his face. His jaw was coated with day-old stubble that he would have normally shaved clean. Only, he seemed to find himself otherwise preoccupied. Subtle flecks of gray dotted his hairline; the lines beside his eyes etching masculine character into him. His eyes though, as she noticed every time she looked into them, were as icy blue as they had always been. And they still managed to pierce her soul upon contact.

"Hey yourself," he replied in a low, raspy voice. His right hand now took to the task of brushing every piece of hair that hindered him from seeing her dark brown eyes. Another quiver came over him as he felt her hand trailing up and down his bare chest.

"Cold?" she asked, only half concerned. The other half seemed to be lost in thought.

"Never when I'm with you," was his smooth reply as he tightened his arms around her, his left hand casually stroking her lower back.

"Mmm," she said, smiling. Her hand dipped below his naval where the sheets had covered him. She laughed softly when she felt him tense in reply. "I can tell."

"Can you now?" he challenged, lifting his head to reach down to kiss her mouth.

"Oh yes," she answered, dipping down with her free hand again. Only this time, he didn't twitch at her touch. Pressing his lips on hers, he took her fully into his arms and laid her down on her back, hovering over her in one smooth motion. He pressed gentle kisses on her neck in the little crevice near the end of her earlobe, where she liked it. He heard her moan and took it as a cue to continue southward. Shoulder, collarbone, breastbone-

Opening his eyes for a moment to navigate where he was headed next, the air seemed to completely leave his lungs as he gasped sharply at the image he saw. The florescent lights cast a sickly light on what he saw in front of him. His stomach dropped and turned; he could feel the bile racing toward his throat for a quick escape. The air was thick, chemical and cold around him, the atmosphere stale and lifeless.

His fingers reached out slowly to touch what once was olive and bare, now mostly covered in a long white sheet. He swallowed the bile down, a tear streaking down his cheek. "Wait," he breathed as she floated away on the cart. "WAIT!" he shouted, as two men came and took her away. "SARAH! SARAH!"

Harmon Rabb Jr. shot up from his sleep, screaming her name as he rose. Sweat beaded off his face and dripped onto his bare chest, his body heaving with tears and screams. When he realized he was finally awake, that what he saw now was finally real, his breathing slowed and he wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. He shivered, not fully recovered from the nightmare he just endured. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the clock. Zero three-hundred. He inhaled deeply and exhaled on a long sigh, his left hand wandering over to where she would occupy it, hoping he didn't disturb her sleep.

Only, the breath left his lungs again when the space turned up empty; the sheets and pillowcase undisturbed from the previous time he had made the bed. Jaw tightening and eyes filling with tears, he realized that he hadn't had a nightmare at all. It was just the memories he carried with him of Sarah MacKenzie, who he'd never see again - because she was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

0954 Zulu

The morning seemed to drag on into eternity, the workload growing by the minute as P.O. Jennifer Coates kept slipping into his office, quietly adding another file to his already imposing stack near the far left corner of his desk. Muttering under his breath, Harm's eyes wandered toward his now, once again, closed door, viewing the activity of the bullpen. For minutes, he sat fixated by the buzz of activity; they all seemed so unaware of the turmoil that was more than apparent to him, so dutiful, content and unfazed.

It had been over six months since the time of the memory of him and Mac, nestled together in the afterglow of nine years of delayed satisfaction. It was a cold day in February - they had just returned from Afghanistan to investigate Jack Ramsay, a Marine Captain who went AWOL to find Osama bin Laden. Though he knew she was fully recovered from her car accident a couple months prior and capable of taking care of herself, Harm insisted as they landed in Dulles that he would make Mac a real hearty home-cooked meal. With a smile, she accepted.

::flashback::

"_I can't believe you'd say that!"_

"_What? What's wrong with that?"_

"_It's just so … mature."_

"_Oh, so now I'm not capable of saying anything mature?"_

"_You know what I mean. I mean, having Mattie in your life changed you."_

"_It did."_

"_It's made you grow into a father-figure. I think it's a nice thing."_

"_You do, do you?" _

"_Yes. It's about time you gave up the fighter pilot ego."_

"_Hey … watch it."_

_Her laugh made him smile so much; he loved the sound of it as it carried through the apartment. "So tell me, Harm - what's the occasion?" Mac's eyes were wide and bright as she watched Harm stirring a large pot of tomato sauce, sprinkling some basil into it._

"_What, I can't feed my partner without a motive?" he asked, turning to face her. She sat on his bar stool seat across from him, arms folded and a raised eyebrow to match. _

"_Well, it's just that-"_

"_I wanted to do something nice for you," Harm said softly, his voice sincere. His eyes dropped to the floor, his courage dwindling by the second._

_An overwhelming urge to kiss him came upon her; normally, she would've dismissed the thought entirely. But as his eyes lifted to meet hers, she slid off the bar stool on autopilot, crossing toward him, holding his gaze. He dropped the spices he'd be clutching onto the counter behind where she now stood, trapped between him and the kitchen island. They could both hear each other's quickened breathing as the space between them grew smaller._

"_Thanks," she said softly, not knowing what else to say in that particular moment. The look in his eyes, the pure fixation and focus on her, made her weak in the knees like she'd never felt before._

"_Sarah …" His voice was low, masculine, and made her stomach give birth to a swarm of rambunctious butterflies. She looked so beautiful to him. He swallowed, catching the scent of her shampoo as he dipped down toward her parted lips, just barely caressing them with his when-_

"_Harm, the sauce!" She broke away as a liquid explosion of tomatoes launched from the pot toward the back of the stove. As he rushed toward the offending pot, Mac took the time to gather her oxygen and her thoughts, both of which Harm had taken possession of mere seconds before. _

_She watched him, with a sort of sadness that only one feels when they know that the next chapter in life will separate them forever. He didn't know or sense it, of course - did he? _

_The feeling of losing him had begun on their flight back to the United States just a day before. She knew her time with him was limited, yet she didn't know why it had to be that way. It was a feeling she couldn't shake; chalk it up to her proved ability to predict the future. She hadn't made him aware of her internal struggle - why hurt him that way? - but the thoughts consumed her until she finally gave in to the side of her that didn't want to lose him without knowing what it really would be like to love him._

_With the mess cleaned, the pot removed from the heat, and now every other burner shut off on the stove, she noticed, Harm turned to face her. That same look still in his eyes, he approached her a little more quickly, with a little more confidence and urgency than before. She thought he might lose his courage, but it seemed like it was the exact opposite. Still leaning up against the kitchen island, he took her into his arms and pressed his lips fully onto hers, not giving her a second to reconsider. Luckily for him, she wasn't about to object, and gave into his embrace and kiss entirely, running her hands up his arms and linking them together behind his neck. His hands were everywhere on her - hair, neck, arms, hips, derriere. They skimmed the side of her breasts as their tongues engaged in a dual. _

_Somewhat reluctantly, she pulled back from his fierce kiss. "Harm-" she said, trying to maintain her sanity as she felt his warm lips trailing down her neck. "Harm!" she said, pulling away completely. His breathing was labored as he scanned her face, a look of worry in his eyes. They stared at one another for a moment before she finally whispered, "Are you sure about this?"_

"_Are you?" he replied in a husky voice._

_Neither of them spoke. Harm, still pinning her against the island with his arms, blinked slowly. Her head dropped, ashamed of what she would say next, but Harm's gentle fingers caught her chin and drew it upward. "Hey," he said, searching her eyes. "Mac, I've been sure about this for nine years but too stupid to act on it before now. I lo-"_

"_Harm, what if something happens to me?" she said quickly, nervously. She hadn't realized she had cut him off from saying the three words she had always needed to hear from him, but never did. She was too preoccupied with her internal battle and whether their love would last for more than one night._

_His brow furrowed, concern evident on his face at her question. "Mac, I'd never let anything happen to you," he assured, stroking her cheek. She leaned into his touch, loving how the roughness of his calloused hands felt against her skin._

"_What if it wasn't your choice?" she barely whispered. This time, Harm took her by the shoulders gently but firmly, forcing her to look into his eyes._

"_Hey, hey …" His eyes began to feel wet from threatening tears at the worry and pain he saw streaked across her face. When she finally looked into his eyes, he said, "Nothing's going to happen to you, Sarah. I won't let it."_

_Still not fully eased from her fears but deciding the fight would be futile, she pressed herself against him in a tight embrace, latching on to some of the soft brown hairs at the nape of his neck with her fingertips. His long arms fully encircled her, holding her tightly as his hands ran up and down her back. Unable to stop himself, Harm's lips began to press against the base of her neck where it met her shoulder, lingering after each kiss. He felt her body relaxed with each kiss, a tiny moan resonating in her throat in response. "Let me love you, Sarah," he whispered into her ear, pressing a kiss on her earlobe. "I love you so much."_

_She pulled back far enough from him to look into his eyes, her own eyes watering as he repeated, "I love you so much." _

"_I love you too," she whispered, a tear escaping its chocolate brown prison._

_From that moment forward, neither of them had any concept of time, space, duty or country. Just the moment. Just the feelings. Just each other._

::end flashback::

That night was the last time he saw her alive. She had slipped out of his apartment sometime before zero six-hundred to shower and change for JAG. They were both to report back to headquarters by zero-nine-hundred, since General Cresswell was waiting their briefing of their findings in Afghanistan. Harm was saddened when he realized she wasn't next to him when he woke the second time that night - but he still was able to smell her perfume trapped in the fibers of his pillowcases and sheets.

Harm and General Cresswell had waited for Mac in the General's office for twenty minutes before P.O. Coates was summoned to contact her at her apartment. The roads were fairly bad; there were a few inches of freshly fallen snow that caused havoc during that morning's commute for many. As he paced the length of the General's desk, Harm's throat became dry and his heart raced to keep up with his worries over where Mac would be.

When P.O. Coates couldn't track Mac down via home phone, cell phone or landlord, General Cresswell agreed to sound out a missing person's alert to the local police, as well as NCIS. Despite his arguing, the General managed to keep Harm on a short leash and made him remain at headquarters until further notice from the police.

Both the police and NCIS weren't overly concerned with the missing Colonel - in most missing persons cases, authorities weren't used to assuming foul play until the subject had been missing for at least 24 hours. Still, upon Harm's relentless insistence, General Creswell made the call. With little hope for her safe return as the hours ticked by, authorities searched the entire day for Mac, including her apartment, a convenience store en route to the JAG building, and ending with the major routes she normally commuted to work.

It was approximately 1900 hours when Harm got the call from NCIS. He had left work only an hour or so prior, taking a long, hot shower to clear his head.

::flashback::

"_Rabb."_

"_Commander, this is Special Agent Meer."_

"_Where is she? Is she OK?"_

"_Commander, we found her in her vehicle in the Potomac Overlook Park."_

"_Is she hurt? I'm heading over there now-"_

"_Commander! Colonel MacKenzie … is dead."_

_Harm's hands began to shake. The tears he had held back all day rushed down his face. "No."_

"_It looks as if her vehicle went off the road heading northwest up the George Washington Memorial Parkway into some trees nearby. Our guess is that she died on impact - the vehicle is totaled and was out of sight of other drivers."_

"_NO!"_

"_Commander-"_

"_I'm coming down there now! It isn't her. She-can't-be-"_

"_Commander, we identified her by her dog tags and her driver's license … I'm sorry."_

_Harm swallowed hard, his breathing ragged and heavy. "Commander," he heard SA Meer say over the phone, "the Colonel listed you as her next of kin. We need you to come to headquarters to positively ID the body."_

"_I'll be there," Harm replied, his voice cracking and broken. _

::end flashback::

He would arrive at the morgue in the NCIS headquarters only twenty minutes later, his whole appearance rumpled, rushed. His eyes were swollen from the endless stream of tears that flowed from the phone call to his arrival at NCIS. He hadn't been wearing the proper attire for a cold February night, but to him it wasn't evident - he wasn't aware of the chill in the air, or the snow underfoot. He felt as if he floated through the headquarters' doors, being escorted to the building's lower level by an agent he didn't know. All the activity, noise and movement around him became blurred out by his one focus of proving that the woman whose body they had downstairs was not, in fact, Sarah MacKenzie. Yet in the pit of his stomach, a terrible ache continued to grow from fear that, for once, he might actually be wrong.

The automatic glass doors slid open, and the young special agent gestured toward the small group, gathered around a gurney. Harm blinked slowly and saw some of the people turn toward him at the sound of the doors opening.

"Commander Rabb," said the middle-aged agent who approached him. "I'm Special Agent Timothy Meer." He extended his hand to Harm, who took it on habit and shook it indifferently. "Thank you for coming. Please." SA Meer led Harm toward the gurney, sensing his resistance.

The other people were silent as Harm took his place next to the body on the gurney, which was covered in a long white sheet. He could feel his heart racing, tightening and sinking with a feverish pace. "Whenever you're ready," he heard SA Meer say gently behind him. Harm's fingers carefully reached toward the edges of the sheet near the body's head, grasping them. With great hesitation, he slowly pulled the sheet downward to reveal a forehead, nose, cheeks, closed eyes-

As her whole face became uncovered, Harm dropped the sheet, shocked at what he saw in front of him. It was Sarah MacKenzie, pale and bruised, her lips purple from the cold she experienced and from the lack of life in her body. Her dark brown hair was twisted and knotted; her olive skin battered and cut. It was then he felt his heart stop. He couldn't deny it any longer. Sarah MacKenzie was dead.

Even over six months later, after the military funeral, cremation and mourning - after the counseling that he was instructed to receive, since he frequently lashed out during the first several weeks after her death - after all of the tears he cried, the nightmares he endured and the pillowcase he refused to wash, Harmon Rabb had enough. He had lost interest in everything. He barely ate, hardly slept, never flew and dragged himself through work. He hadn't been assigned cases, since he used most of his sick time after his State-authorized personal leave, and quite frankly, General Creswell wasn't about to give him any cases any time soon. He called Harm a "ticking time bomb" quite frequently, even after Harm went through mandatory counseling. After Cresswell had to send Harm home for the third time for not shaving or wearing the correct uniform, today, he summoned Harm into his office.

A disheveled and barely there Harmon Rabb entered the General's office with less finesse than he'd ever before. "You wanted to see me?" he said blankly, his eyes fixed on the wall behind the General's head.

Cresswell stood, his arms crossed over his chest. "Rabb," he said softly, approaching him, "it's been over six months since the Colonel's death." Cresswell sighed deeply. "I've tried everything I know. I don't think we can help you here, Commander." He stopped in front of Harm, who continued to stare above him at the wall. Cresswell shook his head. "Commander, effective immediately, I'm suspending you from your duties for 60 days." He saw Harm swallow, saw his nostrils flare slightly at the implication that he was no longer an effective member of JAG. "At the end of your 60 days, Rabb, I expect you to come back to your senses and rejoin society." Cresswell leaned up toward Harm, looking directly at his eyes. "I know her death hit you hard, Rabb, but you'd better figure out how to deal with it within the next two months. Or I will see to it that this suspension goes from temporary to permanent."

"Sir," Harm said, still looking at the wall, "I have 30 days leave on the books. I'd like to request them to be added to my 60 day suspension."

Cresswell cocked his head to the side, studying Harm intently. "With 90 days, Rabb, you'd better come back a whole new man. Dismissed."

With a quick snap-to, Harm turned on his heel and left the office, slamming the door shut behind him. How could Cresswell be so insensitive to Sarah's memory? How was it possible for everyone to move on? Why couldn't he?

PO Coates called out to him as he sped past her desk outside the General's office. "Sir! Sir!" Harm turned, glancing over his shoulder at PO Coates.

"What is it, Jennifer?" he asked gruffly, his eyes filled with tears from his previous memories.

PO Coates swallowed when she saw his distraught face. "Sir, I just wanted to say … that I'm sorry for-"

"Jennifer, it's not your fault," he barely whispered. "So stop apologizing."

"I just figured someone had to say it to you, sir." She looked into his eyes. "To let you know that they understood how you felt."

"I'm fine, Jennifer." He paused, seeing the desperate desire to comfort him in her eyes. "Thanks," he added, turning toward his office.

It only took a few moments for him to gather the essentials in his office before he shut the door and turned to leave. He gave a quick nod to Bud, PO Coates and Sturgis as he slipped through the bullpen and boarded the elevator for home.

With his arms crossed over his chest, General Cresswell sighed deeply as he watched Harm leave. He wished he could somehow fix the broken man, but knew that there wasn't anything in his power that he could do.

xxxxxxxxxx

The decision had been easy - he'd go to San Diego to escape the coming chill of autumn in DC, and, more importantly, to escape the memory of Sarah MacKenzie. After her death, Harm had taken to the task of packing her entire apartment and putting most everything into a storage unit he purchased, save for a few items he kept for himself at his place. As he packed his bags for San Diego to stay at an apartment building on the beach that Frank owned for the next 90 days, he came across some of the things he'd taken from Mac's apartment and kept for himself. Buried deep in a drawer he rarely looked through, one by one he pulled out the items of Mac's that he had kept. A few CDs she loved, an extra cover, a blue sweater he loved to see her in, the slinky white lingerie chemise she had worn in Russia. His long fingers felt the silken material gingerly, his mind taking him back to when he first saw her in the garment.

Without thinking, he grabbed the chemise and shoved it into his bag, along with socks, underwear, t-shirts and pants, rushing through the packing process. He looked around his empty apartment; he needed to get on that plane immediately. Every fiber of his being told him he had to leave before he set the place on fire. He had never felt more destructive in his life before as he had now.

Bud agreed to check in on his apartment while he was gone, which Harm was grateful for. Sturgis, despite his growing resentment toward Harm, had sympathy for him and agreed to watch over his Corvette. Harm's sporadic contact with Mattie had the teen worried; PO Coates agreed to keep in touch with her, since Harm admitted he couldn't. Harm would take a taxi to Dulles, and live the next three months of his life in sunny San Diego, somehow filling his mind and time with anything but memories of Sarah MacKenzie.

"Hey Mom," Harm said softly on the phone after he dialed and Trish Burnett picked up.

"Harmon …" Trish's voice was full of concern. "Are you alright, dear?"

"I'm fine, Mom," he assured her. "I'm just calling to let you know that my flight gets in at 9 a.m. your time. I'll get a cab from the airport to-"

"Nonsense! Frank would love to pick you up."

"Mom, I-"

"Harmon, this is going to be a long three months if you don't start listening to your mother."

Harm couldn't help but let a small smile grow on his face. "I'm hoping it'll be a long three months, Mom."

"I know, dear." Trish's voice was softer than usual, and Harm knew she was probably worried sick for him, as well as upset for Sarah's death. She and Frank had flown out for the funeral - Harm knew it was mostly to comfort him. But she also knew Trish loved Mac, and especially loved how Mac was so right for Harm.

"I've got to go, Mom. I'll see you soon."

"Love you, dear."

"Love you too, Mom."


	3. Chapter 3

September 06, 2005  
>0756 Zulu<br>San Diego Freeway

"Where did you learn to drive? Come on, asshole!" _BEEP, BEEP!_

"Take it easy, Jason."

"No, I'm not going to take it easy, Katharine, OK? These - ASSHOLES - need to MOVE!" _BEEEEEEEP!_

"Jason-"

"COME ON!"

Katharine Healy crossed her arms over her chest in defeat as she witnessed her husband Jason's obnoxious display from the passenger's seat of his Land Rover. He was taking her to her place of work, the San Diego Natural History Museum, which was only a twenty minute commute from their home in Lower Hermosa. Except, with the rush-hour traffic, it was taking much longer than Jason had anticipated. Kate, as she liked to be called, was ready long before Jason even woke up. Still, somehow they were, once again, pressed for time and Jason's reaction was always the same.

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard of the SUV. Chewing on her bottom lip, she knew she was going to be late. There was no way on earth they could make it by eight o'clock to the museum, where she worked as a Paleontologist for their major exhibit, "Fossil Mysteries." Absentmindedly, she spun a lock of her long, dark auburn hair around her left index finger. As she did, she spotted the glittering platinum and two-carat diamond engagement ring on her ring finger, over top of a platinum band. Fixated on the pieces of jewelry she wasn't quite used to wearing, her mind wandered to the last several months of her married life.

She had met Jason after many years of being single, rather haphazardly at the museum where she worked. He, a businessman in the heart of San Diego, was visiting the museum with his nephew's class trip. He was a lot of what she wished her previous relationships had been - he wanted her, he made sure she knew it and he pursued her. She felt wanted by him … at first.

It was all so rushed, though. Their engagement lasted a month after dating for two, with a sporadic wedding on the beach for an intimate group of his family members, since hers were absent from her life. They moved into their home in Lower Hermosa - a place she never dreamed she'd be able to afford visiting, let alone living - after their brief honeymoon in Hawaii. Her new life came with matching his and hers Land Rovers equipped with all the extras, a six bedroom $5.5 million dollar house with a villa, a housekeeper, personal chef and a Centurion Card, otherwise known as American Express' highly sought-after Black Card.

Though he protested, saying her line of work was "unnecessary" for her, since she was so well taken care of, Jason agreed to let her keep her job at the museum three days a week, which Kate insisted on. Though, in an ironic way of trying to be "thrifty," he insisted on driving her to work those three days. Which usually left him pressed for time to make it to the building where he housed the insurance company he owned.

Peering at the traffic through her dark brown aviator sunglasses, she picked her small handbag up off the floor of the vehicle and slung it over her arm. They were parked in the long line of traffic, and she could see the museum up ahead, only about six or seven blocks now. Pulling open the door, she stepped out of the SUV and turned to her husband, who just noticed her missing.

"KATE! What are you doing?" he asked, perplexed as he smoothed his shiny aqua tie.

"Walking, Jason," she replied smoothly. "I can make it there faster than you. Go to work, I'll be fine."

"Kate." His voice softened as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. "Get in the car."

"I'm fine, Jason," she emphasized, then shut the door to his car. Before he could protest further, she was off and walking. He watched her curvaceous but fit body move away from him, frustrated at her rebellion, yet admiring her backside in the black trousers she wore with her coral colored silk blouse.

"You're a handful, Kate," he muttered as he cut off the driver next to him to head back on the highway.

xxxxxxxxxx

Harm had been in San Diego for five days now, yet he still felt as miserable as he had in DC. He knew it would take time to push through his depression, and he also knew it would take a push from himself to get out into the world and try to move on. He wasn't interested in dating, or even a casual relationship. He wanted nothing to do with women right now. He just wanted to feel like he wasn't breathing with a 500lb weight on his chest every day. He wanted the aches and pains to go away, literally and emotionally. He wanted peace of mind. He wanted freedom.

He got an early start today, figuring he'd take the day to wander through San Diego to see if he could pass the time without sitting in his apartment in the dark, like he had done for the past five days. Trish would call, invite him over for dinner; Frank would chat with him over a cigar (none for Harm) and a glass of bourbon (often two for Harm). Then, he'd return home to sit on the couch of his fully-furnished rental and stare at the wall.

Frank insisted he have the rental, free of charge, for as long as he needed. Trish figured having independence might help him. Harm agreed - he didn't want to worry his mother with his self-destructive behavior or his moody absence. It was a wonderful apartment, a third floor two bedroom with a private balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean off the lavish master bedroom, complete with a master bathroom bigger than his kitchen space back home. Harm figured easily it was worth almost $3000 a month, which in La Jolla wasn't too uncommon. Frank even loaned Harm one of his sportier cars, a charcoal gray 2005 Mercedes-Benz CLK500 Convertible that Harm drove with the top down and solemnly wondered what Sarah MacKenzie would have looked like riding in it beside him, her silky brown hair blowing in the breeze.

As he drove that same convertible to one of his favorite local eateries, The Mission, he inhaled and exhaled deeply, as if for courage to complete the task of trying to enjoy himself. He knew she would have wanted him to continue living, and to be as happy as he could be. Still, he felt like he was betraying her memory by moving on. Yet everyone around him was convinced it was the one thing he actually needed to do.

With a half grin, Harm scanned the traffic-filled streets and chuckled. Having lived in San Diego for many, many years, he knew every shortcut and side street that apparently most people seemed not to today. Then again, everyone was probably trying to get somewhere more important than The Mission. Besides, you didn't go up Park Boulevard unless you wanted to get into the museums and other attractions San Diego is known for, like the Zoo.

That's when he saw her, walking up the sidewalk on his right side. A tall, well-proportioned woman with flowing deep auburn hair, like a chocolate-covered cherry. Unconsciously, his foot let off the gas and coasted closer to her. Her body … it drew him like a magnet, one that he couldn't - and didn't want to - pull away from. Her long legs clad in black trousers moved with purpose, her tanned skin complementing the silky blouse that fluttered in the gentle breeze. He swallowed, still trying to look at her face as he drove, unaware of how close he was to the vehicle in front of him.

He knew that body. He knew that shape. So perfectly formed … it had to be …

"SARAH!" he yelled desperately. "SARAH!"

A loud crashing sound and the force of the front end of his Mercedes colliding into a large Cadillac jarred him from his desperate pleading with the mystery woman, who didn't respond to his call.

Slamming on the brakes, Harm realized he had just crashed into the car in front of him, who was stopped at the red light, which he failed to notice. Luckily, he had his seat belt on, and he wasn't going terribly fast. The other driver was none-too-pleased as he exited his vehicle in front of Harm's, yelling and pointing to the damage Harm had caused to his back end.

However, Harm was still fixated on the woman on the sidewalk, who, at the sound of the crash, turned toward him. Her face was disguised with large aviator shades, but he saw her lips part as she took in the scene. Quickly, she turned away and continued down the sidewalk, putting a cell phone to her ear.

Maybe she was calling the police. He didn't know. But as he watched her fade into the crowd, he caught the glimmer of her diamond ring on her left hand that tucked some hair behind her ear. Despite the aggravated yelling of the driver he hit, his eyes followed her until she completely vanished. Harm felt his heart drop as he realized that she wasn't Sarah MacKenzie. How could it be? She was dead. And this woman … this woman was alive and married.

Handing his license and registration to the police officer that came onto the scene of the accident, Harm felt the last bit of hope he was holding on to slip away.

xxxxxxxxxx

Kate bit the inside of her cheek as she quickly walked down the sidewalk, glancing every now and then over her shoulder behind her. She waited as the line she dialed on the other end rang, praying he would pick up. When he did, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"When are the Padres playing?" she said quickly after she heard his greeting.

"One o'clock, Kate," the deep voice replied calmly. Through her sunglasses, Kate peered around her, taking note of what laid slightly northeast in front of her in the vicinity of where 1:00 would be on a clock face. There, she saw a large man sitting at a bistro table on the sidewalk, peering through sunglasses in her direction over a newspaper. She exhaled, noting his presence and felt relieved. "Kate, talk to me. Tell me who they're playing against."

"No one … I mean, I'm not sure."

"Then what happened?"

"... I think I saw Butch Cassidy."

xxxxxxxxxx

His day of supposed fun was ruined within the first two hours of his departure from his apartment. By the time Harm got home that afternoon from the police station - since local police didn't buy the fact that he "borrowed" a car like Frank's from his stepfather and only let him go when Frank showed up to back up Harm's story, he was exhausted. Tossing his wallet on the bureau in bedroom he occupied, Harm smoothed his hair back with his hand and put his hands on his hips, taking a look at his surroundings. He could hear the ocean crashing onto the shore just beyond his balcony; it drew him outside as he threw open the balcony and inhaled the sea air, admiring how the sun made the sand shimmer.

Though he desperately tried for the past six hours, he couldn't get the woman he saw on the street out of his mind. He knew, despite not even seeing her face, she was gorgeous, and that's what he convinced himself was the reason for his mind lingering on the thought of her. Even still, he felt there was something more, something drawing him to thinking about her that he couldn't explain.

"She's a married woman," he mumbled, disgusted at himself for thinking about someone's spouse and feeling the physical attraction he felt. "For God's sake, Rabb, fantasize about a single woman."

After a few moments of silence as he peered into the ocean in front of him, he added softly, "And one who's alive."

xxxxxxxxxx

"I'm sorry about the car, Frank," Harm apologized for the fifth time that evening as Trish cleaned up dinner plates around him and her husband. Frank shook his head and brushed Harm's concern away with his hand.

"Stop it, Harmon," he said gently. "Like I said before, it's nothing to apologize over. Accidents happen."

"But the car-"

"Harm, I've got another one you can use."

"No, no … I mean, the expense-"

"Son, that's why you take out a good insurance policy." Frank smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Trust me, it'll be alright."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Frank reached across the table and grasped Harm's shoulder with his hand. "But if it'll make you feel better, you can go pick up the paperwork from the insurance agency tomorrow. Healy Incorporated, is who I use."

"Never heard of them," Harm murmured.

"Run by Jason Healy, a prominent business figure in the city. Your age, I guess. Smart guy. Good deals … and GREAT coverage." Frank winked as he let go of Harm's shoulder. "No worries, son."

"Thanks, Frank. I'll pick it up first thing tomorrow morning."

Trish smiled as she carried out a tray of iced tea and freshly baked cookies. "Who's hungry for dessert?" she asked as she placed the tray on the table where they were sitting outside on the patio.

"Your mom warned me that I'd gain weight while you were here," Frank said with a laugh. "Never knew the woman baked so much!" He reached for a cookie and kissed Trish on the cheek as she sat beside him.

Trish grinned. "Well, you are always watching your 'girlish figure', so how's a wife to know?"

They shared a simple kiss and Harm watched, both happy and sad over their display of affection. A fleeting mental mirage of Sarah MacKenzie flooded his mind; she in a strappy, tropical dress sitting beside him, lacing her warm fingers through his, snuggling close to Harm as he kissed her softly, just as Frank had kissed Trish.

"I think I'm going to call a cab and head home, Mom," Harm said quietly as the image of Sarah faded from his mind's eye. Sensing his shift in mood, Trish gave a small smile and nodded.

"Very well, dear," she said.

Harm stood and gave a nod to Frank. "I will get the paperwork for you tomorrow, Frank."

"Sure thing," Frank replied. As Harm turned to leave, Frank called to him. "Hey Harm!" Harm faced him and caught the flying set of keys Frank tossed in his direction. "She's cherry red."

"Frank …"

"I insist," Frank said with a smile. Harm smiled at his stepfather, continually blown away by his generosity.

"Thanks, Dad," he replied sincerely. As he left, Trish's mouth opened in amazement at her son's gesture toward Frank. Calling him "Dad" wasn't something Harm had ever done before. She watched her son with pride as he drove off in the cherry red BMW convertible Frank loaned him, squeezing Frank's hand as Frank shed a small tear of gratitude.

xxxxxxxxxx

2243 Zulu

"Well, this is just perfect, Katharine. Should've let me drive you, for God's sake!"

"I figured I'd save you more money, dear." The sarcasm in Kate's voice was thick.

Taking off his shirt, leaving him only in boxers, a well-toned and tanned Jason peered back at her. Kate had to admit that despite her growing resentment of her husband, he was an attractive man. "You know I don't give a shit about the money," he growled under his breath, pacing the length of their master bedroom.

Kate's purple silk chemise danced in the gentle breeze as Jason opened their double French doors to the balcony. She sat on the bed, defeated. Ultimately, he was right. She just was irritated at the way he always rubbed that conclusion in.

"I didn't respond!" she emphasized, watching Jason turn to her from across the room.

"It doesn't matter, Kate!" Jason replied, frustrated. "There's a gravitational pull toward you with the opposite sex, and he's not resistant! Who is Butch Cassidy, anyway?"

"Are you jealous?" Kate inquired, her eyes narrowing. She stood, facing him with her arms crossed.

"Jealous?" Jason walked toward her, his eyes scanning her appreciatively. "Why would I have to be jealous? I'm the one who put that rock on your finger."

"Stop it," she whispered as he took her into his arms. She began to fight him, but he snatched her wrists tightly, trapping her against him.

"What's wrong, darling?" Jason said coolly, pressing his mouth onto her neck. "You know, we really should consummate our marriage. It's been four months."

Twisting out of his grip, Kate shoved Jason away from her. "Don't touch me," she warned, then turned toward the bed, reaching the side where she slept.

Jason didn't back down. Instead, he grabbed her from behind, twisting an arm behind her back. "I'm tired of playing house, Kate. Besides, you should really just accept that this is a natural part of marriage." He kissed her neck with intensity; for a moment, Kate was stunned. Regaining her senses quickly, she turned in his arms and faced him, pressing the cold muzzle of a 9mm Sig Sauer into his side.

"I said, don't touch me," she repeated, glaring up at him. Releasing his grip on her wrist, he backed away from her, hands slightly raised.

"Fine, Kate. Have it your way." Jason wiped his lips with the back of his hand, clearly angry. Storming off, he slammed the bedroom door and Kate sighed. Tucking the handgun under her pillow, where it usually stayed, she crawled into the king-size bed alone and pulled the expensive sheets and quilt over top of her. It would be another night without much sleep in a nightmare she couldn't escape.


	4. Chapter 4

September 07, 2005  
>0930 Zulu<br>Downtown San Diego

Determined to keep this vehicle dent free during the remainder of his three months in San Diego, Harm carefully watched the road as he traveled down the freeway to downtown. The directions he had found to Healy, Inc.'s office said it was right in the heart of the city's business district. The company website Harm visited proclaimed Healy, Inc. to be "the best kept secret" in property insurance, specializing in writing policies for "exceptional clients and their most treasured possessions."

Harm enjoyed the mild breeze from the open convertible top as he navigated the city streets toward the insurance company. When he finally arrived, he parked in the attached garage and made his way to the front of the building. A young, attractive receptionist with long blonde hair greeted Harm more enthusiastically than he had anticipated. "Good morning and welcome to Healy, Incorporated! How can I help you?"

Harm smiled politely. "Good morning. I'm here to pick up some paperwork for my stepfather Frank Burnett's recent accident claim."

The receptionist smiled. "Of course. And your name is …?"

"Harmon Rabb."

"Of course, Mister Rabb. Actually, Mister Healy is expecting you. If you would have a seat, I'll let him know you're here."

"Jason Healy?" Harm asked, confused.

"Yes, Mister Rabb. Mister Healy handles Mister Burnett's policy directly."

Somewhat impressed, Harm sat in one of the plush chairs in front of the reception counter, taking note of the contemporary and expensive-looking art and furniture around him. Healy, Incorporated certainly didn't hold back, and also looked the part of a "rich man's" insurance company. Having worn simple khakis and a black t-shirt, Harm began to feel out of place in the luxe reception area. "He'll be with you shortly," he heard the receptionist say, and Harm gave a nod, anxious to get the papers and go.

A few minutes later, the elevator door chimed open, and out stepped a smartly dressed man in a three-piece pinstripe suit. His blonde hair was neatly groomed, his skin tanned and smooth. His chiseled jaw was cleanly shaved, and Harm could tell the well-built man was fit, even with the layers he wore.

Harm stood, and just as he noted the man's shiny black shoes and glowing platinum wedding band on his left right finger, the man extended his hand toward Harm. "Mister Rabb, I presume?" he asked politely, gripping Harm's hand firmly and giving it a shake. "I'm Jason Healy. It's a pleasure."

"Commander Rabb, and likewise," Harm said with a small smile.

"Your stepfather, Frank, is a long-time client of mine. Well, actually of my father, George Healy. I took over the company after his death in '99. God rest his soul." With a quick change of emotion, Jason extended his arm toward the elevator. "Please, Commander Rabb. Right this way."

"Thanks," Harm replied, unsure of what to think about Jason Healy.

The ride up the elevator was tense, as Harm told Jason about his fighter pilot experience with the Navy, feeling the need to participate in the "pissing contest" he sensed Jason was trying to start. He knew if Mac was there with him, she would roll her eyes at his need to defend his masculinity. But he didn't care - Harm wasn't about to be outdone by some silver-spoon fed rich boy.

"Well, Commander, it seems as if you'd be a big liability if you were insured by me," Jason chuckled. "Not sure I could take the risk insuring someone who isn't … practical."

Harm forced a stiff laugh in response to Jason's dig at him, playing it cool. He wasn't quite sure how Frank had managed to deal with this nonsense for so long, but he was sure glad he didn't have to put up with it for more than today. As they stepped off the elevator together, Jason led Harm to his corner office, which was more massive than he'd imagined it would be. "Right in here, Commander," he said, gesturing toward the opened door. Harm stepped in, walking over to the large bookshelf that spanned the back wall of the office as Jason went to his desk and put some papers in a folder. "Your stepfather has been a great client of this company's, so we wanted to make sure to rush the paperwork for this unfortunate accident. I do say, Commander … what distracted you enough to make you smash up such a beauty?"

Harm turned from looking at the expanse of books back toward where Jason stood. "A really attractive woman," he replied, waiting for Jason's reaction.

Jason laughed. "Well, who can blame a guy, right?" Walking toward Harm with the folder in hand, Jason added, "Though, I can't say I'd have to worry about the same thing." He pointed to a picture on his bookshelf that Harm failed to notice previously. "That's my wife, the most beautiful creature on the planet."

Harm's jaw dropped as he examined the photograph of Jason and his wife, shocked by what he saw. His wife … the woman on the street … As Harm studied the small picture, he felt the air leave his lungs as he looked closer. Her face … her eyes … he knew those eyes, that face. He knew it well. Framed by her brownish red locks, the woman's dark brown eyes stared back at him hauntingly. Her face in the picture looked forced. Harm began to panic as he thought of the possibilities.

"You're a lucky man," he said softly. "Was this from your honeymoon?"

"Yep, in beautiful Hawaii four months ago," Jason replied, still trying to dig at Harm by showing off his wife.

"What's her name?" Harm asked, still staring at the picture.

"Katharine. Or Kate, as she calls herself. She's a Paleontologist. A hot nerd," Jason said with a laugh. Sensing Harm's unusual interest in his wife, Jason's eyes narrowed. "I have your stepfather's paperwork ready, Commander Rabb." Harm turned at the use of his formal name and realized the gawking he'd done at the photograph on the shelf. Playing it coolly, Harm accepted the file.

"Thank you, Mister Healy," Harm replied politely. "And congratulations on your marriage," he added quickly, heading for the door.

"Anytime, Commander," Jason replied, watching Harm see himself out of the office and to the elevator.

xxxxxxxxxx

His heart raced; he felt himself break out into a sweat on his brow. His hands jumbled clumsily as he dug in his pocket for the keys to the cherry red convertible. His mind was completely unfocused, his thoughts scattering around like debris trapped in a tornado. He couldn't reach his car fast enough, and he was pretty sure he couldn't drive fast enough either.

He knew he had to get to the museum. She was headed in that direction yesterday. It had to be where she was going. A Paleontologist? Where else would she go? It was the only shot he had.

He chided himself mentally as he wove in and out of traffic like a madman. A married woman. Still, she couldn't be married. He knew she couldn't. Hell, a day ago or so, she wasn't even alive. But he knew whose face he saw in that picture, and different hair and a wedding ring couldn't change who it was.

It was Sarah MacKenzie.

xxxxxxxxxx

"And this over here is a fossil of a track from a Velociraptor, a dinosaur that existed approximately 75 to 71 million years ago during the later part of the Cretaceous Period."

Kate smiled at the "ooh's" and "aah's" she heard from the group of 22 3rd graders who were gathered around her exhibit for their science day field trip. The teachers and parent supervisors with them herded them closer to the fossil display that was accompanied by a large replica of a Velociraptor.

"That's like the one from Jurassic Park!" a little boy squealed excitedly, pointing to the life-like model dinosaur.

"Let's see if it sounds like it, too!" Kate said, pressing a small button on her remote control she held in her hand. A gruesome high-pitched scream resonated from deep within the sound system inside the dinosaur, and all the children screamed along with it in surprise. Kate chuckled lightly, assuring the children, "He's only pretend! See? He's not real."

"Sure sounded real!" a little girl with kinky black hair replied. Kate patted her head.

"Don't worry …" She paused and glanced down at the girl's name tag. "...Kayla, he's not."

"Are there any pretty dinosaurs?" another girl asked, twisting one of her pigtails.

"Oh, there are!" Kate replied, squatting down to the girl's level. "Want to see them?"

"YEAH!" all the girls from the group shouted.

"WAIT!" the first boy said, crossing his arms over his chest. "What about the T-Rex?"

"We'll get to the T-Rex, don't worry," Kate assured as she began leading the group of children down the hall toward the other part of her exhibit. She only stopped and turned when she heard the clink-clink of high heels racing down the smooth marble floors. She saw her coworker, Francesca, racing toward her, pushing up her thick glasses as she ran. Kate stopped and signaled the children to stop, concerned for her friend. "What's wrong, Frannie?" she asked, sensing the urgency in the petite woman's approach.

"Kate, there's some guy asking for you at the front desk …" Frannie paused, catching her breath. "He … really thinks he knows you."

"I told you, Frannie, I don't take visitors," Kate said to her in a low whisper, so the children and chaperons couldn't hear.

"I know, I know," Frannie replied, rolling her eyes. "But Kate! This one is REALLY GOOD LOOKING," she emphasized in a loud whisper.

"And I'm REALLY MARRIED," Kate replied in a matching tone. "Frannie, please tell Sasha at the front desk that I don't have any connection to him."

"He won't take no for an answer!"

"Frannie …"

"I'm serious! We tried! He said he would stop at nothing to talk to you, that all he wanted to do was talk."

"What is his name?"

"Something strange .. Hammond? Harold? Rabb is the last name. Oh Lord, Katie, he's GORGEOUS. Say …" Frannie smiled, pushing her glasses up her nose again. Her dark, curly hair bounced around her small face, her green eyes sparkling. "... If he's just a friend, and you're married … is he single?"

"Frannie, I don't even know this man," Kate said calmly.

"But he seems to know you!"

"OK!" Kate said in a loud whisper, loud enough that some of the children looked over at the two women talking together. "I'll go down and see him. BUT … Frannie, I'm just doing it to get rid of him. Remember that big guy with the dirty fingernails?"

Frannie nodded enthusiastically. "Eww, yeah. He was gross."

Kate continued. "Well, this is like that guy. He says he thinks he knows me, really wants to ask me out, and I have to break his heart." She lifted her left hand up to show Frannie with her last statement, and Frannie nodded.

"OK, that's cool. But, since he's not Fingernail Guy, and he's like a Greek god, then I think I'll see if I can mend his broken heart!"

Kate shook her head. "You're too much, Frannie. Could you get Sylvia to cover the group for me? I'll catch up with them after." Frannie nodded and raced down the hall to get one of the other Paleontologists from her office, who helped with the exhibit Kate worked. Kate turned to the group of children and put her hands on her hips. "Well, class, it looks like I have a visitor this morning!" She saw some of the children frown and quickly added, "But, Miss Sylvia will be guiding you until I get back. I promise I won't be long."

"What about the pretty dinosaurs, Miss Kate?" the pigtail girl asked, still twisting her hair.

"Oh don't you worry, we'll see them soon enough," Kate assured with a smile. When Sylvia had arrived and guided the group down the hall, Kate waved her thanks and walked back toward the front desk with Frannie, who practically skipped alongside her.

"Ohmigoodness, Kate, he's so yummy looking, I just want to dissect him!"

"Frannie, even if you are a Biologist, I wouldn't say that to any guy. He might not appreciate your correlation."

Frannie sighed. "You're right, Kate. But still …"

It wasn't long before they reached the reception area, where another larger school trip was checking in and getting organized. "Frannie," Kate said, "you should probably help Sasha."

The heavy-set Latina woman looked over at Kate and Frannie in a desperate plea for help. Frannie sighed, muttered a few things under her breath about missing out seeing "Hammond the Hunk" again, then left to help attach wrist bands onto each of the children that came in.

Through the crowd of children and adults, Kate spotted the man Frannie called Hammond standing by himself along the wall, picking at some literature the museum had on display. As she approached him, he turned, hearing the sound of her high heels clicking on the floor coming toward him. The brochure he had been holding slipped from his hands to the floor as he caught sight of her. Confidently and without any particular emotion, Kate approached the tall, good-looking man, ready to dismiss him.

Harm couldn't formulate words for what he saw in front of him. He watched her as she moved, fluidly and with presence, as she always had. Waves of cherry chocolate hair cascaded over her shoulders, her tanned skin accented by the ivory blouse she wore tucked into her chocolate brown pencil skirt. She was every ounce of gorgeous as he had remembered her.

He couldn't will his legs to move fast enough to meet her in the middle. She stopped about four feet in front of him, keeping her distance. With a small glance over her shoulder, she turned and raised an eyebrow. "Hammond, is it?" she asked.

"It's you," he said softly, reaching out for her. Only, she took a small step away. He dropped his hands, confused. "Mac, it's me. Harm."

It was, indeed, Sarah MacKenzie's body, face and voice. He knew it. Wasn't it?

"Harm?" Kate asked, perplexed. "Do you have a real name?"

"Mac, how could you not know me?"

"Listen, I'm not 'Mac', OK?" Kate said, anger lacing her voice. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'll make this easy for you so you can quit the game you're playing." She held up her left hand, showing him her diamond. "You're too late."

As she turned to walk away, Harm grabbed her arm, which caused Kate to turn back around. She pulled her hand away from his loose grip, as if she had been burned. "Don't you dare touch me," she warned with a steely glare.

"Sarah …" Harm's heart was shattering, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I'm not Sarah," she replied, staring deep into his eyes.

"Yes, you are!" he said, a little louder than necessary.

"No, I'm not! I'm Katharine Healy, I'm married … and NOT INTERESTED!"

A well-built security guard approached the area where they were standing and stepped in between Kate and Harm. "Why don't you step outside, sir?" he said calmly. "Leave the lady alone."

"She's my friend … my partner … she knows me!" Harm yelled over the guard's shoulder toward where Kate was walking away.

"Listen, step outside or I'll have you escorted out," the guard warned, blocking Harm's view of Kate as she walked away.

"You know me, Sarah! You know me!"

The guard took Harm by the arm and pulled him toward the door. Harm continued to call to Kate as she walked away, his desperate cries to her reverberated off the walls of the museum. "SARAH!"

As the museum door shut in his face after a warning that he had been flagged by museum security and would be arrested the next time he stepped in, Harm put his hands on his hips and stared at the large building. He knew it was Sarah MacKenzie … wasn't it? Was he finally going crazy? How could it be? He had identified Sarah's dead body at the morgue. But this woman - it had to be her. It had to be!

Wasn't it?

xxxxxxxxxx

He had waited for two hours outside of the museum before security told him he would be arrested for loitering. Climbing into his convertible, Harm drove off toward his apartment. He needed time to clear his head. He'd go for a run. When he arrived home, he quickly changed into running shorts, a Navy t-shirt and sneakers and headed out. He picked a route through the suburbs of La Jolla, making his way down to Lower Hermosa.

He had ran about two miles he guessed when he stopped, spotting a small convenience store in a strip plaza. Thirsty and curious about a hunch he had in his head, he entered the store and brought a cold bottle of water up to the counter, putting a $5 bill on the counter. As the young cashier took it, he asked, "Do you have a phone book?"

The teenager cracked her gum, staring at Harm. "Um … sure." She pulled out the dusty book, brushing it off a little before she gave it, and his change, to him.

"Thanks," he said, flipping directly to the white pages. His fingers skimmed through the G's, trying to find where the H's started. When he located the H's, he ran his finger down the list of names, pausing at a "HEALY, JASON" who lived in Lower Hermosa. Taking a moment to memorize the street address, Harm slammed the book shut and tossed it on the counter. "Thanks!" he called as he grabbed the water and left. Taking a big swig of the icy cold liquid, Harm began to run in the direction that the address was.

It wasn't like he was going to stalk her now or anything. Though, him spying on a woman who refused to recognize him, let alone one who was married and went by a different name, was strange. Still, he had a strange feeling that he would be able to dig something up by scoping out the home. For the remainder of the run toward the address Harm memorized, he argued with himself mentally for going this far with things. Why on earth, if it was Sarah MacKenzie, would she refuse to acknowledge him? And, more importantly, he had seen Sarah's dead body in the NCIS morgue seven months earlier. He had buried her and mourned over her. How could she possibly be alive?

The last question grew rather insignificant as he approached Coral Drive, the street the Healy residence was located on. 689 Coral Drive. Glancing at the house numbers, Harm jogged slowly down the ritzy neighborhood's sidewalk, his destination coming into sight.

689 Coral Drive was a mansion like he had never seen before. A massive house with a large circular drive in front, framed by perfectly coiffed bushes and trees, accented with just the right amount of flowers. It was an impressive sight, as were most of the neighbors' homes. As he jogged past it just enough to view the backyard, he saw a massive in-ground pool with an attached jacuzzi, complete with a waterfall. He also spotted the villa behind it, most likely as big as his and Mac's old apartment put together. He caught a glimpse of an open balcony off the second floor overlooking the pool with a staircase that descended down to the ground, and wondered silently if the stairs led to the master bedroom.

Two vehicles were parked in the driveway, a black Land Rover whose body couldn't have possibly been shinier and another smaller sedan with a nondescript shape. Harm stopped jogging, examining the vehicle from a distance. The license plate number was shorter than most vehicles in California. From his military background, he deduced that the sedan was a government vehicle, from the coded license plate number and unmarked body.

"A government vehicle?" he murmured softly, wiping his brow. Why was the government there?

Unless …

As his mind wandered through the possibilities, he saw the front door of the home open. Harm quickly dashed behind a row of bushes on the side of the home's property, unsure why he was hiding in the first place. Peering carefully through, he watched a large man exit the home, wearing black sunglasses and speaking into a cell phone. He couldn't make out the conversation, but saw the man climb into the government vehicle. Harm's eyes then turned toward the doorway, where a woman in a simple dress stood, watching the departing vehicle. After the vehicle was well down the street, heading in the opposite direction from him, Harm came out from behind the bushes and continued to jog down Coral Drive, glancing over his shoulder at the large home that grew smaller in his view behind him.

The last 24 hours had proved to be stranger than Harm could ever anticipate, leaving his mind flooded with endless questions. Was Kate really Sarah, or could it be another Diane-like coincidence? It had to be … right? Why would the government be in the Healy residence without anyone home? Or, was Kate home and in trouble with the law?

Harm reached home sometime later and soaked himself in a hot shower. Despite his attempts to wash away the confusion he was experiencing, nothing could give him relief. His desire to see the woman who called herself Kate was insatiable. It was as if he couldn't possibly think of anything but her face that was so familiar and loved by him. He had been convinced before that it was Mac, but now, he wasn't so sure. Maybe he was so in love with Sarah MacKenzie that all he could see was her.

Now drying his hair with a towel, wearing only a pair of cotton shorts, Harm paced the length of the living room, his phone in his unoccupied hand. He knew the one person he could call who would tell it to him straight.

"Harm! Good to hear from you! How you holding up?"

"I'm … I think I'm going crazy, Keeter."

Jack Keeter frowned on the other end of the line; Harm could hear it in his reply. "What do you mean? You alright?" Keeter had attended the funeral for Mac, and had been a lifeline for Harm as much as possible, with his TAD's he was often assigned.

"Yes … no … I don't know."

"Talk to me."

"I don't know … I mean, I'm out here to get away from it all … but all I see is her."

"That's natural, Harm. It's a part of the grieving process."

"No, I mean …" Harm paused, swallowing hard. "... I've REALLY seen her."

"Harm, Sarah is-"

"I know. But, I don't think she is."

"Harm-"

"Jack, I …" Harm's voice faded, his head hanging low, gripping the phone to his ear.

"Harm," Keeter said quietly, now worried for his friend. "You couldn't have seen her. She's gone, Harm."

"There's this woman, Keeter. She looks just like her. Her face … her body … her eyes …"

"Harm, you're probably not ready for a relationship right now. You need to let Sarah go first."

"Well, this woman is married ..."

"Good reason not to get involved anyway."

"... And she wants nothing to do with me."

"OK, even better reason why you shouldn't jump into anything." Keeter's brow furrowed at Harm's statement that just processed in his mind. "Wait, what are you doing pursuing a married woman? Since when do you break up happy homes?"

"I don't! But … Keeter, it's Sarah. It's GOT to be Sarah."

Keeter exhaled deeply. "Harm, it can't be."

Harm stopped pacing and clenched his fist. "But, let's just assume for a minute it could be, OK? Why … how … ?"

"Buddy, you're only doing more damage to yourself to keep thinking of stuff like that," Keeter said softly, trying to convince his friend. "Don't do that to yourself."

Harm stared out through his master bedroom window, watching the ocean crash onto the shore violently, relentlessly. Without mercy. Then, without warning, the waves swallowed themselves back into the open water, leaving the shores abused and alone. "You there, buddy?" Harm heard Keeter ask from the other line, the phone still pressed up against his ear.

"Yeah, I'm here," Harm replied, his voice weakened.

"Look, Harm … I've got to leave with my squad in a few minutes. Harm, keep your chin up," Keeter said, trying to be encouraging.

Harm nodded, still staring at the pattern of the ocean waves. "I will. Thanks, Jack."

"Anytime. Take care, Harm."

"You too, Keeter."

As Harm hung up with Keeter, from a long distance away, a camera's telephoto lens captured Harm on film through rapid-fire clicks, zooming in on his face and snapping carefully framed photographs.


	5. Chapter 5

The next several weeks went by slowly, time passing like molasses through a sieve. Harm fell back into his usual routine of pretending for his mother and Frank, while at home he sat in the dark, staring at the wall or occasionally strumming sad, remorseful chords on his guitar. More often than not, he'd lie in his bed and watch the large ceiling fan above him spin around and around until he drifted into a nightmare-filled slumber.

The subject of his nightmares always started and finished with Sarah MacKenzie, though in the last couple weeks, her appearance had become a hybrid of how he had always known her and of Kate Healy, the woman who claimed not to be Sarah MacKenzie. Usually in the dreams, Harm was trying to reach her, but couldn't. Save her, but failed. Hold her, but lose his grip. Love her, but she would vanish into thin air, never to be seen again.

He would wake, often coated in sweat, breathing heavy and thankful for it to be over. In the mornings, he would pad into the bathroom to examine himself in the mirror, only to see a worn and torn fragment of a man staring back at him.

There were the times he gave into his urge to go to the museum to try to see Kate, only to be threatened by police, ticketed and even chased away. After four or five attempts, he gave it up. Instead, he would jog past 689 Coral Drive to try to get a glimpse of her, or some kind of activity, but instead would see just the lone Land Rover, parked in what he swore was the same spot that he first saw it in.

It was a self-destructive routine in which Harm found some comfort - without it, he would literally have nothing to feed the spark of hope he still held deep within his heart. Though, as time wore on, the small spark was beginning to grow dim.

Hoping to revive her son and reconnect him to the world, Trish invited Harm over for dinner one evening a few weeks after Harm had first arrived in San Diego in October with a plan.

"Dear," she said as she poured him a glass of iced tea, "I'm coordinating a quite exciting partnership between the Art Society of Southern California and the San Diego Natural History Museum. They have some young artists who happen to be scientists as well, and their works will be shared between both the gallery I own and the museum. Our gallery will be hosting an open house for these works, a lovely cocktail reception this Friday night, the 7th."

As Trish dropped a lemon slice into Harm's iced tea, she watched her son's face shift and change after the mention of the museum. She was not aware of Kate Healy, and she found it strange that Harm would be so intrigued by the museum portion of the news bulletin she shared with him.

"The museum?" he asked, looking up and catching her eyes with his.

"Yes, darling … I, well … I thought it would be a nice change of pace for you to attend," Trish said, sipping her tea.

"Who … who will be there?" Harm asked softly, noting Frank's broken focus from the newspaper he was reading at his question.

"Well, I'm not sure you'd know anyone, dear," Trish replied. "But there will be a few of the museum's curators for their major exhibits …" Trish stood with a smile. "I'll go get the guest list," she said as she left the patio. She returned with a sheet of paper in hand, and gave it to Harm, who took it and scanned through the names. "See anyone familiar?" she asked, trying to see where his eyes were now fixed on the list.

"No," he said, swallowing. He gave the list back to his mother. "But I'll go," he said quickly.

Trish was stunned by his response. She hadn't expected him to go, especially without knowing anyone. It was merely something she thought she could do for him, but never expected he would actually go through with it. "Are you sure, dear?" she asked, surprised.

"Positive," Harm said, giving her a small smile.

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October 7, 2005  
>2026 Zulu<p>

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Kate Healy spun around in the master bedroom bathroom, surprised at Jason's angry entrance. She clutched the freshwater pearl and chain earring she was putting in before his rude interruption, peering up at him.

"Out," she replied like a defiant teenager, turning back toward the large mirror to put in her earring.

"No, you're not. Not without me," Jason said in a low voice.

"Yes, I am. Without you," Kate said, her back to him.

"You know that I have the meeting tonight. Why the hell would you even think to-"

"It's for work, dear," Kate said, turning toward him. "Surely you can understand that."

Jason stepped closer to her, pinning her against the sink and blocking her exit to the bedroom. His eyes couldn't help but roam over her body, clad in a tight emerald green cocktail dress with a draping cowl neck back. "You didn't tell me. I'm not prepared for you to-"

"I'll be fine," Kate said, noting Jason's proximity to her face and seeing the flicker of desire in his eyes.

"Like hell you will be," he muttered.

"It's a gallery open house," Kate said softly. "Museum collaboration."

"I don't give a shit if it's the Pope, Kate." Just when she thought he couldn't close the gap more, he did. "You're not going without me."

"You can't come, remember? You've got to play with the big boys tonight."

"Then," he said, his lips hovering right above hers, "you'll stay here under lockdown."

"So you're going to keep me prisoner here? That's your plan of protection?"

"Yes!"

"Well I've got news for you," Kate breathed, not moving away from his imposing block. "I've already gotten approval."

Jason pulled back from her, stunned. "Who?"

"Does it matter?" Kate asked in reply. She watched as Jason's jaw tightened; what she said obviously irked him.

"Fine," he said bitterly, his eyes still locked on hers. "If that's what you want, then so be it." After a few final moments of challenging silence, he turned and left the bathroom, slamming the master bedroom door as he left.

Kate exhaled deeply as the door slammed, closing her eyes in relief. She had to go to the open house for a few different reasons, but one was more important than all the others, and she was grateful that her husband was unaware of the most important reason all together.

As she stepped into the master bedroom to gather her clutch and wrap, a telephoto lens hidden in the shadows outside the home clicked furiously away, her departure saved frame by frame on film.

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As Harm straightened his medals on the lapel of his Navy mess dress white jacket for the fourth time in the last five minutes, he realized he was more nervous than he allowed himself to believe. He smoothed the white tuxedo shirt underneath the gold cummerbund that wrapped itself around his waist, taking inventory of each piece of his mess dress whites as he stared at himself in the mirror of his master bedroom. Grateful he decided to pack the outfit last minute before he left DC, he swallowed, reaching up and running his fingers over his gold wings that signified him as an aviator. He remembered Mac's comment when they first had met about dress whites and gold wings and sighed. He clenched his jaw; he was determined tonight to gain the truth, even if it killed him.

After one last inspection, Harm grabbed his cover and keys and left the apartment, unaware of the eyes that were watching him from the lurking shadows.

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2049 Zulu  
>Glyph Gallery<br>Downtown San Diego

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great honor and pleasure this evening that I introduce to you the innovative woman behind this exciting new relationship, Ms. Tricia Burnett!"

Harm watched his mother step to the sleek, clear podium with a smile as the packed gallery applauded her. Though there were many artistic types who didn't follow usual dressing conventions, Harm stuck out like a sore thumb with his perfectly pressed military dress uniform. Of course, it made him quite the target for several women, who shamelessly approached him with motives written all over their faces. Always the gentleman, Harm dismissed them graciously, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd for one person in particular.

When it came time for Trish to say a few words, Harm still hadn't found the one reason he came. He attempted to focus on his mother's speech, but instead was distracted by the sound of a woman walking into the gallery from the left side entrance, just opposite where he was.

"Thank you, Gerald," Trish said with a smile. "I am very pleased to be a part of such a magnificent marriage and a truly innovative venture between the arts and science here in San Diego …"

Harm's lips parted with surprise at what he saw in front of him. Kate Healy, dressed in a figure-hugging emerald green cocktail dress, handed her wrap to the suit-clad attendant and stepped into the gallery, trying not to make her late entrance apparent. Harm quickly thought to himself that if this woman was indeed Sarah MacKenzie, something must have been important enough to make her late, since she was usually so punctual. But any thoughts of her tardiness completely vanished from his mind as he caught the sight of her open-backed dress, her skin glowing and smooth. Her long auburn hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, allowing her eyes and her perfect complexion to take center stage. Her legs looked impossibly long as she strode over to someone he recognized from the first visit to the museum, a plainer, petite woman in a navy blue dress who pushed her thick glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

"...and with the support of wonderful people, like all of you, this is only the beginning of a very exciting journey! Thank you all."

The applause around him caused Harm to snap out of his reverie, and his hands folded into an automatic clap, watching his mother leave the podium and receive a kiss from a man he didn't know on the cheek. The distraction was enough that when Harm looked back to where Kate had been standing, he instead saw a heavy set older woman and what appeared to be her awkward-looking daughter, staring right back at him with a smile. His eyes widened, realizing he most likely sent them both the wrong message as the mother approached him from across the room, dragging her reluctant, yet interested daughter alongside her.

"Well hello …" The mother said, her smile full of suggestion. "Do you know my daughter?" she asked innocently.

Harm smiled politely, mentally kicking himself. "No, ma'am, I don't."

"Oh! Well, I just assumed from how you were looking at her that you did!"

Harm could feel a blush creeping up his collar in embarrassment. "I actually was looking for someone I do know, ma'am. She was standing where you and your daughter where moments ago."

Boldly, the mother replied, "Hmm, perhaps since you can't find her now, you wouldn't mind getting my daughter Jessica a glass of champagne."

Harm's eyes widened at the blatant request, shocked at the direct approach the mother was taking. He decided that if he was ever to find Kate, he would need to graciously dismiss Jessica and her mother - and fast. Snatching two glasses of champagne off a tray from a nearby waiter, Harm handed the pair the glasses with a forced smile.

"So, Commander, I never got your name," the mother said sipping her champagne.

"Rabb. Harmon Rabb," Harm said with another forced smile.

"I'm Louisa Monroe, and of course you already met Jessica." Louisa looked over at her daughter, who shifted her feet and fidgeted in her dress. Her mother gave her a small elbow to the side, and Jessica laughed nervously, blushing. "Say something," Louisa said through gritted teeth.

Seeing Kate glance over in his direction, Harm had to quickly dismiss the precarious twosome before he lost his chance. "Ma'am, I do regret that I am in a hurry to find my friend. It's a pleasure to meet you both. If you'll excuse me."

And with that, Harm slipped past the mother-daughter duo, relieved he was finally away from them. He was focused on Kate, moving through the crowd toward her with determination. For a brief moment, they locked eyes with one another, which sent Harm's heart into a tailspin.

It was another cruel joke from fate as he was blocked on his path toward Kate suddenly by the same man Harm saw kiss his mother on the cheek. "Harmon Rabb!" he exclaimed. To say the man had an eccentric presence would have been an understatement. "Tricia has told me so much about you! I'm Don Pierre."

"A pleasure, Mister Pierre," Harm said, slightly agitated but keeping his cool.

"Your mother and I go way back," Don said with a smile. Harm sensed the man had an appreciation for avant gard fashion, judging from his ensemble. "I just absolutely love the whole … military thing you've got going on here!"

"It's my uniform, Mister Pierre," Harm said, his patience diminishing as he saw Kate slipping further into the crowd away from him. "If you'll excuse me," he said, barely glancing back at the man, who shrugged and snagged a glass of champagne, greeting someone else flamboyantly.

From across the room, Frannie tugged on Kate's arm. "KATE!" she whispered loudly. "We can't just keep running from him!" Frannie glanced back at Harm, appreciating his appearance. "Besides, he looks so good in that uniform! Who would've known I'd go for a guy who wears a costume to a party?"

"Frannie," Kate said calmly, turning her friend to face her, "it's not a costume. He's a Naval officer, a Commander."

Frannie paused, pushing her glasses up. "Wait, how did you know that?" she asked, perplexed. "When he came to the museum, you said you didn't know him-"

"I-don't," Kate stammered, moistening her lips. "He told me."

Frannie nodded slowly, still unsure about the situation. "Okay," she replied, eyeing Kate. "So that uniform is legit? He's not another Don Pierre?"

"No," Kate said. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Away from him."

Frannie stopped again and Kate frowned, turning toward her friend. "But why?" Frannie asked.

"Frannie, he's the psycho from the museum. Remember?"

"But he seems harmless …"

"Don't they all?" Kate reminded. "What about George Harper? Remember him?"

Frannie shuddered at the memory of George, who had a uncontrollable attraction to Frannie and made her fully aware of it, going as far as stalking her and leaving messages on her car windshield. "Yeah," she said, nodding. But as she saw Harm approaching once again, she added, "But he never wore dress whites and gold wings."

It was then that Kate turned back, realizing Harm was too close now to run away from or ignore. She, too, looked in Harm's direction and felt her breath catch in her throat. He was tall, handsome and determined as he locked eyes with her.

Harm was focused on not letting himself strike out a third time - he didn't care if he had to use force to get to her. He approached her, unfazed by the activity around him. His eyes were fixed on the vision of her in an emerald green in the sea of darkly-dressed women.

Kate felt her throat go dry at the sheer perseverance he displayed, Harm's energy fully focused at her. For the first time in a long while, she felt completely helpless under his gaze. As he stepped toward her, she also saw something she hadn't quite expected to - fear. "Isn't this illegal? You were, after all, issued a warning to stay away from me," Kate challenged as Frannie stood to the side, watching them face off with wide eyes.

"As I recall, that was only pertaining to the museum. Last I heard, it was still legal to come to a function my mother organized." Harm hadn't imagined those would be his first words to her after several weeks, but he stood his ground, determined to flesh the truth out from her.

"This constitutes as harassment."

"Harassment? It's a free country, I can go wherever I please!"

"Listen," Kate said, leaning in toward Harm, her eyes locked on his, "just because you're wearing the uniform doesn't mean you're in charge here."

Frannie's brow furrowed in confusion at the choice of words Kate used, her eyes shifting to Harm, waiting for a response.

"Who is in charge here, then?" Harm said lowly, stepping toward Kate, whose mouth opened at his boldness. "I'd like a word with them."

"Why are you asking me?" Kate retorted. "Isn't this supposedly your mother's party?"

Harm took another step until he was now almost toe-to-toe with Kate, his eyes glued on hers. "You know what I'm talking about," he said in a loud whisper.

"No, I don't," Kate replied. "I'm calling the police."

Frannie continued to watch silently, stunned by the exchange she witnessed. She was equally as surprised when Kate opened her clutch and took out her cell phone, pressing a button or two before Harm grabbed her hand she held the phone in.

"Don't," he pleaded. They stared at each other for a moment before Harm reluctantly loosened his grip on her hand, adding, "I won't bother you anymore."

Pulling her hand free, Kate locked eyes with Harm in a glare before she turned and left, snapping her clutch shut. "I'm leaving, Frannie," she said, striding out toward where she first entered. With a quick glance back, Frannie scurried away with Kate, afraid to be left alone with Harm.

Harm took a step forward in the direction Kate went, then stopped as he saw her speaking to Frannie before leaving the building, Frannie still inside. It was then that a small flash of color caught his attention on the floor. He bent over to pick up a small piece of brightly-colored paper, realizing that it must have fallen out of Kate's clutch when she retrieved her cell phone. Fingering the small ticket, he read the words in black ink, "Mission Beach Boardwalk" and looked toward where Kate had left. His mind raced with thoughts, particularly with one being that it was a message Kate was trying to send to him. A meeting place? Glancing around the room, he saw his mother occupied with other guests and decided to just leave and explain things later.

Quickly pocketing the ticket, Harm made his way over to where Frannie stood, still stunned by Kate and Harm's interaction before. "Can you tell Kate that I'm sorry for the misunderstanding?" he asked Frannie, watching her eyes grow big at his words. "I really did mistake her for someone else." He knew he had to lie to Frannie to avoid her calling the police on him.

"S-s-sure," she stuttered, watching Harm slip out of the Glyph's door.

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2149 Zulu  
>Mission Beach<p>

It was a long shot, he knew that. But there was something deep inside of him that told him he had to take one final risk, give things one final shot before he wrote Kate off completely as being Mac. After all, why would the ticket have been on the floor? Sure, it could have been an accident, a simple mistake of dropping it innocently during the retrieval process of her cell phone. However, for Harm, the banter they exchanged in the gallery was all too familiar, a real reminder that kept his spark of hope lit.

Navigating the beach at night in a dress uniform wasn't an easy task, but he was more than up to the challenge if it meant finding Kate at the end. He passed through groups of teenagers, some couples holding hands and playing arcade games as he wove through the busy boardwalk. The laughter, chatter and noise from the boards faded slowly as he made his way onto the beach, unaware at the sand and water that threatened to ruin his uniform with every step.

He felt it was a hopeless pursuit, his eyes scanning the beach in front of him, now far away from the noise and crowds of the boards. No sign of a woman in a cocktail-

It was then that he saw her, sitting on the sand in perhaps the darkest corner of the beach, digging her toes into the moist sand in front of her, her hair dancing gently in the cool evening sea breeze. His heart raced as he crossed the distance toward her, his small spark of hope glowing a little more brightly with each step.

When he reached her, he was surprised that she didn't turn toward him; she kept staring into the ocean, twisting her feet into the sand. He saw her strappy black slingbacks discarded to her side, next to her satin clutch. He sat beside her, unsure of how to react himself, watching her watch the waves. After a few moments of silence, he pushed himself closer and took her right hand into both of his. His heart stopped when she didn't resist, though he half expected her to. Instead, she broke her focus from the ocean to stare deep into his eyes; he could see the tears welled in them.

"Hey," he said, the worry in his voice. He reached over and stroked a tear that fell from her face with his thumb.

"Hey yourself," she whispered back.

The words took Harm completely by surprise, the lump in his throat growing larger and more imposing than ever. "Mac?" he whispered, still stroking her cheek.

A moment of silence hung in the air before she replied. "I haven't been called that in a long time," she said, turning her gaze back toward the water.


	6. Chapter 6

Harm swore he felt his heart stop at her admission. Gripping her hand tightly, he pulled her toward him in an embrace. She gave into his whim willingly, shuddering in a fit of tears as he embraced her. He stroked her windblown hair as she sobbed; he felt the sting of his own tears wetting the top of her head.

They embraced for a long while before either said anything to the other, Mac's tears subsiding slowly. Harm pulled her away from him, gently, yet firmly cupping her face in his hands. Eagerly, they reached toward each other's lips and kissed passionately, both gasping for air when they finally surfaced. Taking her fully into his arms, Harm kissed Mac again on the lips, then proceeded to kiss her cheek, jaw, ear, neck-

"Harm," Mac whispered, pulling away. They searched each other's eyes for a moment before she finally spoke. "You shouldn't be here," she warned softly.

Ignoring her concern, he leaned down toward her and kissed her again. "You're alive, Sarah," he whispered, then dipped back down to her lips. Mac's hands found themselves running through Harm's hair, moaning at the familiar sensations of his kiss and touch as his hands found her bare back, his fingers tracing up and down her spine.

With great effort, she pulled away again, putting her hand on his chest. "Harm," she said firmly. "You … you should go."

"Like hell!" Harm said, still holding her. "Sarah, I'm not letting you out of my sight! What the hell happened these last seven months? You were dead, Sarah! I … I identified your body! I _buried _you, Mac! I ..." Harm's voice trailed off, his head dropping.

Mac swallowed hard, seeing the brokenness the last several months caused him. "Harm," she said quietly, "there's so much … so much you don't know."

"So tell me," he said. "Start at the part where you _faked your death._" His voice was mixed with emotions, especially anger.

"I … I can't," she said, shifting in his embrace.

"Mac!" Harm's eyes were wild. "Tell me what the hell's going on! Why are you here in San Diego? And why the HELL are you married? And to that asshole Jason Healy?" When she didn't respond, Harm let her out of his embrace, hurt by the realization of the life she was now leading. "Everything too much for you back in DC?" Harm growled, his anger becoming more and more evident in his tone. "Wanted to run away? Start a new life? Sure! Why the hell not? It's not like you haven't used men before. Should've known I wouldn't have been any different!"

"Stop it," Mac whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Why, am I hitting a nerve?" Harm sneered. "Am I getting close? You wanted a taste of the good life? Or was it just the diamonds in exchange for the sex?"

"Please stop!" Mac begged, never seeing Harm resort to this level of cruelty before, especially with her.

"You made me live in a GODDAMN NIGHTMARE, Sarah! A GODDAMN NIGHTMARE FOR ALMOST EIGHT MONTHS! All while you fucked the rich boy on the beach!"

"I DID IT FOR YOU!" Mac finally screamed, the ocean's violent waves and noise from the boardwalk far in the distance diminishing her pitch to others nearby. Still, it stunned Harm into silence as he watched her sob, clutching her knees to her chest and shaking with tears.

Neither spoke for a long moment, Harm using the time to process what she said to him and to realize that he lashed out several months' worth of anger on the wrong person, the person he should be so happy to see. He thought the revelation of Kate Healy really being Sarah MacKenzie would give him relief - instead, it left him with nothing but questions and rage. Yet, in that moment, he realized that he hadn't been the only one suffering for the last several months. He had grown so accustomed to thinking about his own grief, never realizing she, too, was suffering all that time.

Still, it angered him to think about this life she was now consumed by as he caught a glimpse of her large diamond engagement ring and wedding band. She was still sobbing as he tried to make sense of her last statement to him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice still darkened from his outburst moments before.

Lifting her head, Mac glanced over at Harm, her bangs crumpled against her forehead and her eyes swollen from crying. "I did it to protect you," she explained softly, sniffling.

Harm's eyebrow rose. "Protect me from what?" he asked, his tone softer than before.

"I … I've said too much already," Mac whispered, turning away from him. "You should go."

"Mac, I'm not leaving you," Harm said firmly, taking her into his arms. Her whole body stiffened, but he continued to hold her, pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head. "Sarah, tell me what's going on," he asked gently.

Though she wouldn't look into his eyes, she inhaled deeply and began to explain everything to him. "As we were getting back from Afghanistan, I received a phone call from Kershaw in the CIA. He warned me to be careful, that Sadik Fahd's brother, Salim, was seeking revenge for Sadik's death. Kershaw said he had a team tracking Salim's movements even during the time before I shot Sadik. Kershaw … felt it would be too big a risk to involve you. He knew Salim would enact revenge on those I care about first, leaving me for last.

"Kershaw said the only way was to fake my death, convincingly enough that you would believe it and … so you would be safe from any revenge Salim had planned for me. So, the CIA set the whole thing up. I didn't even know it was time until I got back to my apartment the morning after we … and Kershaw was there with his team. They told me not to pack anything or touch anything. I couldn't bring anything with me. I couldn't call anyone. They simply put me on a plane with new credentials and I left. They took my dog tags, wallet … anything identifying. I guess they placed it with the body in the vehicle for NCIS to discover."

Harm's throat was dry; he managed to swallow, shocked by the revelations Mac was telling him. "What about the body?" he asked.

"The body …They made a cast of my face, similar I guess to what Clark Palmer did that one day when he tried to kill that witness in court. It was the last thing I did before I flew out here."

"Whose body was it?"

"It was a fake. The NCIS team who supposedly discovered my body in my wrecked car, or so I read in the Navy Times later, was in on everything. They had to be. They knew you would be so … overwhelmed with grief … that you wouldn't ask too many questions. Not until the body was six feet under. And, even at that, I already had in my will that I wanted my body cremated and the ashes scattered, so they used that as a way to cover their tracks."

"So …" Harm stroked her hair, still processing the information Mac gave him. "You don't exist anymore?"

"For now," she said quietly. "At first, it was all to protect you. And me. And the others. Kershaw said after they caught Salim, everything would go back to normal."

"And now?"

"Now … Kershaw believes Salim is taking up the diamond trade. He set Jason up to be a dirty insurance company owner, one who doesn't ask questions of their policy holders. Salim has dealings with Jason under the premise that Jason doesn't investigate him. Jason traded some materials he lifted from a fake policy holder with Salim for diamonds to gain respect. He even set one of Salim's diamonds in this ring for collateral."

"What kind of materials?"

"Chemical. Kershaw is tracking their usage."

"... Frank uses their insurance."

"It's a government-owned company that has been working in conjunction with the CIA for several years as a cover."

"So … when do you get to come back?"

"Kershaw said after the catch Salim, I would reenter society like I never left. I'd go back to JAG. General Cresswell said he would hold my place for me-"

"Wait, Cresswell knew?" Harm said, the anger building in his voice.

Mac nodded softly, searching Harm's eyes, more tears forming. "He had to keep you from finding me," she whispered.

"That son of a -"

"Harm, he didn't have a choice," Mac insisted.

"If he didn't want me to know, why would he suspend me from my duties, then let me take 30 days leave?"

"I guess it was his way of trying to help you. Cresswell has no idea where I am. He only knew my death wasn't real."

"So why San Diego?"

"Kershaw believes Salim has connections in Mexico. San Diego's close enough for Jason to do business with without seeming suspicious."

Harm growled at the mention of Jason's name. "And that bastard … why did you marry him?"

"I didn't," Mac replied firmly. "It's … not a real marriage. The paperwork says it's legal but it's not real."

"Is he CIA?" he asked, still angry at the topic of discussion.

"Yes," she replied. "We live in the house the CIA purchased for us. His whole back story was written to cover for me. We live there together, but that's it."

"So in the last seven months, both living as husband and wife, you never …"

"No, we never slept together, if that's what you mean," she replied coldly, still tense in his embrace. After seeing her shiver, Harm stood, unbuttoning his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She nestled into its heat gratefully.

"Has he tried?" Harm regretted the question as soon as it left his lips, afraid of the answer he'd hear. When Mac didn't reply, it worried him even more. "Mac? Has he hurt you?" His voice was dark with an undercurrent of rage at the thought.

"He … I haven't been easy to live with," she answered. "I haven't been able to accept my new life without fighting."

"Mac, did he touch you?" Harm repeated, clearly upset at her skirting the question.

"He … tried. But I keep my weapon close." Seeing Harm's face change, she added, "He's been out in the cold so long."

"I don't give a damn! That bastard will pay!"

"Harm-"

"Mac! How could you …" Harm paused long enough to decipher the look in Mac's eyes and exhaled. She did all of it to protect him. He tightened his jaw, trying to calm himself down as he realized that everything he took as a selfish act from her was really, in fact, a selfless attempt to save his life from a revenge-crazed brother of a killer.

"Mac," he said softly, dipping his head down to kiss her cheek. "Hey," he whispered as she shuddered, trying to hold back the tears. "It's okay. I'm here." He pressed a warm kiss on her lips, and she responded, kissing and embracing him with a hunger neither had experienced since that cold February night. The oceans waves crashed onto the sand below them; neither were aware of their imposing distance until one sprayed them both with salty water. They parted from their kiss, Mac more drenched than Harm. Searching her eyes wildly, Harm reached behind her and grabbed her shoes and clutch, placing them in her hands. He was flying automatic as he then scooped her into his arms, her hands laced together behind his neck. He pressed her body close to his, attempting to keep her warm as he walked with her up the beach toward where he parked his convertible.

"Did you drive here?" he asked when he reached his car. She shook her head in reply.

"I was dropped off by a guy on the team. I got a taxi here."

Without another word, Harm pressed the unlock button on his key fob, held onto Mac with one arm while his other hand pulled open the car door. He placed her inside his vehicle, shutting the door and racing to the other side and climbing into the passenger's side. One he turned on the ignition, he blasted the heat to try to warm Mac up as he furiously drove toward his apartment complex.

"Harm, I have to go home," she whispered, knowing he wasn't driving in the right direction for her house on Coral Drive.

"You are," he replied, his focus on the road. "With me."

"I can't!" Mac pleaded. "Jason will …"

"He'll what?" Harm asked, irritated at the thought of the man.

"He'll send the team looking for me. They don't know you're here." Mac watched Harm, his gaze unbroken by her words. "I never told them I saw you. They would ask me if I ever saw people from my past to let them know. When I saw you that day on the street, I only told them I saw Butch Cassidy."

"And they didn't figure out who that was?"

"If they did, they never told me."

"You're staying with me, Sarah," Harm said firmly.

"Harm, I-"

"Don't argue with me," he interrupted. His voice was determined, yet filled with love and concern. "Sarah, I won't let you go back there. I'll protect you."

"Harm, you-"

"Sarah," Harm said a little more loudly. "I just spent the last seven months of my life thinking I'd never see you again. I'm not letting you go. They didn't tell you once before what they were going to do to your life, and I won't let them do that again."

Knowing arguing was pointless, she settled into the damp jacket that was draped around her, trying to warm herself from the car's heater. It wasn't long after that they reached his apartment. Mac was too drained to ask any questions, like where the apartment came from, or for that matter, where the expensive car came from. As they rode the elevator up to the third floor, Harm held Mac tightly, guiding her as the doors slid open to his apartment door. He fumbled with the lock, pulling open the door and tossing his keys aside after locking it once more from the inside. He grabbed Mac's hand and pulled her to the master bedroom; for a moment, she felt her heart stop as he closed the curtains, wondering what his next move would be.

Handing her the cell phone from her clutch, he instructed her, "Call your friend from the museum. Tell her to call Jason to tell him you're there with her. You had one too many glasses of champagne and she drove you back to her place, since you didn't want to be alone. If he tries to trace her call, it'll show her at home. Then tell her to meet you at this address at zero-eight-hundred with a change of clothes."

She nodded slowly and made the call, instructing Frannie not to reveal the truth about where she was; that she would tell her everything when she saw her, and to just please cover for her. She then read the address, which she assumed was Harm's apartment. Frannie agreed, and Mac hung up.

She wasn't sure whether he would take the role of a gentleman or not as he discarded the wet dress jacket from her shoulders and unzipped the side of her dress, watching it slip from her body and fall into a puddle at her feet. She heard him inhale sharply as his eyes scanned her almost bare form. Quickly, he handed her a familiar piece of clothing that she hadn't seen in a while, turning his eyes away from her.

Mac's lips parted as she held her white silk chemise close to her bare skin. He had brought this across the country? But why? She noted it still smelled like her lotion. Had he kept it with him all this time?

Not satisfied with his polite gesture, she tossed the garment aside and pressed herself against him, her lips crashing onto his in a smoldering kiss. She heard him groan in response and felt his hands roam over her body as she took to the task of undressing him.

Lifting her into his arms after she managed to rid him of his shirt, bow tie and cummerbund, he laid her on his bed, pressing kisses onto the skin where her neck met her shoulder, pleased with her response. From there, he embraced and explored her body much to her delight, pouring every last ounce of energy he had into loving her as honestly as he could.


	7. Chapter 7

0617 Zulu

She stirred early that morning, reaching for him to her left without opening her eyes. In his sleep, he shifted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling the blanket over her bare shoulder. His warm, bare body radiated heat; she enjoyed the overwhelming sense of security he gave her.

Just as she was settling back into a deep sleep, a rough knock on the front door caused Harm to shoot up from his sleep, unconsciously gripping Mac a little more tightly. She opened her eyes slowly, registering his tension as she examined his worried face. "Harm, what is it?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he replied, his eyes still fixed on the doorway to the bedroom. Another rough knock caused Harm to get out of bed, pulling a pair of sweatpants over his boxers to leave the bedroom. He checked the locks on the French doors to the balcony; both were locked. "Stay here," he whispered before he left to a distraught Mac covered by a sheet. He picked up his Navy issue handgun and opened the bedroom door quietly, exiting and clicking the door shut behind him.

When Mac didn't hear anything after a few moments, she panicked and climbed out of bed, dressing herself in the white chemise Harm offered her the night before, realizing she didn't have any other clothing options available to her except her barely-there underwear - not even a bra, since she didn't wear one with her dress the evening before. She pressed her ear to the bedroom door, listening for any sign of activity. She could hear muffled voices from the other end of the apartment, but couldn't distinguish them.

A moment or two later, she heard footsteps approaching the bedroom and she backed away from the door, grabbing a nearby sculpture she knew wasn't Harm's, since it looked nothing like what he would have in his own place. She held the metal object in her hands as she stood behind the door, ready to strike as the door slowly opened in front of her. Lifting the sculpture, she almost bashed Harm over the head with it as he stepped into the room. She gasped, realizing her mistake, and Harm ducked for cover, missing her swing. "Mac!" he exclaimed, surprised.

"Harm! I thought you were-"

"Mac," Harm interrupted, taking the sculpture from her hands. "It's OK. It was just a neighbor. Relax." He placed his gun that was tucked into the back of his pants on the bureau. He took her into his arms, kissing her gently on the lips. She melted in his arms, tired from the lack of sleep she had over the last several months. When she laid back down with Harm in bed, she passed out in exhaustion as he held her. Harm's eyes were locked on the doorway as he laid awake, feeling the fear Mac felt for the first time since she told him everything.

xxxxxxxxxx

0802 Zulu

Another knock - this time softer and more polite - woke both Harm and Mac from their sleep. Harm peered at his watch and climbed out of bed, Mac following behind him. Taking his gun with them, he led them out to the living room, peering through the peephole before opening the door. Frannie stood on the other side, nervously smoothing her shirt at the sight of a bare-chested Harm.

"Frannie," Mac said, giving her a smile.

Frannie was visibly distraught as she looked at Mac. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Before either could ask Frannie what she meant, Jason stepped from behind the door, his teeth clenched together at the sight of Harm. Mac's lips parted as she saw the anger rise in both alpha males and watched in horror as Jason grabbed Harm and shoved him against the wall. In the confusion, Harm dropped his gun as his back slammed against a painting hanging from the wall Jason chose to shove him against. Harm moaned in pain as Jason connected his fist to Harm's face in a hard right hook.

"JASON!" Mac screamed, lunging after him and trying to pull him off of Harm. Glancing at her for a split second, Jason back-handed Mac hard enough to send her crashing to the floor. Seeing this, Harm became enraged and punched Jason hard, giving him enough room to turn the tables of control on Jason and hold him in a painful lock. Mac breathed hard from the floor where she fell, watching as Harm twisted Jason's arm behind his back. Frannie's eyes were wide as she witnessed the entire scene, unable to move.

Not giving up the fight, Jason jabbed his elbow into Harm's abdomen with force, causing Harm to loosen his grip. As he was about to land another punch to Harm's face, Mac screamed, "Jason, he's Butch Cassidy!"

For a moment, both men froze, staring at each other with fierce intensity. Frannie was unable to breathe as she watched Jason reluctantly release his grip on Harm, shoving him away as he stood. Mac slowly stood, locking eyes with Jason as he took note of the chemise she was wearing.

"What the hell are you doing, Kate?" Jason asked, wiping blood droplets from his bottom lip.

"Jason … he knows," she whispered.

Looking at Harm, Jason's eyes moved to Frannie. "Frannie …"

"Frannie, you should go," Mac whispered, looking to her friend. "I'm alright."

Frannie was frozen, unsure what to do. Mac saw the concern in her eyes and sighed, feeling horrible she got her mixed up in this mess to begin with. "Trust me?" she asked softly, hoping Frannie wouldn't ask too many questions. Slowly, Frannie nodded, looking at her friend, Harm and then Jason before she slipped out the front door.

When the three were finally alone, Harm stood, moving quickly to Mac's side to examine her. "You okay?" he asked softly, stroking the red, swollen area on her cheek that Jason's hand made contact with.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she murmured, watching Jason as he paced near the sofa.

"You know how much you've screwed this up?" Jason yelled at Mac. Harm held her in his arms, his breathing quickening in anger as Jason continued to scream at her. "You just don't care how many people you put in danger, do you?"

"It was my idea for Mac to contact her friend," Harm said, standing slightly in front of Mac as he faced Jason.

"Perfect, just perfect." Jason's hands fell to his hips as he continued to pace.

"I pursued Harm," Mac lied, trying to protect Harm from Jason's wrath.

"What, you just magically knew he was here? Wanted to screw things up even more than you already have tried to before?"

"I -"

"So what, Frannie thinks you're having an affair? How much does she know?"

"Yes. That's all she knows."

Jason stopped, turning to Mac. She had never seen him quite so angry before, and it scared her. "I've spent the last four years tracking Salim, and you go and piss it all away for him!"

"Watch it," Harm warned, not liking the tone Jason used toward Mac.

"Fuck off, Rabb," Jason snapped. "This doesn't concern you."

"The hell it doesn't!" Harm yelled, stepping forward toward Jason. "Whether you like it or not, I'm involved. So you'd better damn well keep your hands to yourself. I swear to God, if you touch her again, I'll kill you myself." The tone of his voice was so cold that it made Mac shiver.

"Oh yeah?" Jason challenged, stepping closer to Harm. "Well if you want to protect her, she'd better come home with her _husband_."

"She's staying here," Harm growled.

"Not an option, Rabb."

"Oh yes it is."

"You're not the only one who can protect her, Rabb."

"No, but I'm the only one who's going to."

"She's been just fine for the last seven months without you," Jason sneered. "She's been _well _taken care of."

Though Harm believed Mac and knew Jason's implication was a lie, his blood boiled. He lunged at Jason, furious. "You son of a bitch!"

"Stand down, Rabb!"

Both men turned toward the door, which none of them had noticed had been opened until that moment. All three were surprised to see Kershaw in the doorway, glaring at both of the men with equal distain. "What the hell is going on?" he asked, eyeing Harm.

"He knows everything, thanks to her," Jason spat, walking away from Harm, who glared at him as he crossed the room.

Kershaw turned to Mac, who pressed her lips together firmly, standing her ground. "He was onto us," she said. "I … wanted him on the inside."

"You know how this complicates things," Kershaw replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "And the danger it puts him in."

"I'm willing to take the risk," Harm said, stepping back toward where Mac stood.

"Whether you're willing to or not, this doesn't make it easier for us," Kershaw explained. "We've already built a tight cover story. Now, we've got to make sure you're not found out. Plus, from the looks of it, there's a young woman who knows too much."

"That's my fault," Harm said softly, cutting Mac off before she could speak and take the blame.

Kershaw frowned, sitting on the couch and rubbing his temples. Harm and Mac sat on the loveseat opposite from him, and Jason paced in the corner of the room, frustrated.

"See?" Jason yelled. "He's involved for less than 24 hours and already he's screwed things up!"

"We'll fix it," Kershaw replied in a firm tone. Turning back to Harm, he said, "We're going to have to put you in prison. Breaking and entering, we'll call it. We'll keep you there until this is over."

"Won't work," Harm said. "My stepfather is a very wealthy man. He won't think twice about bailing me out."

"No bail?"

"Not an option. I'm not leaving her."

"You're not calling the shots here, Rabb."

"If it concerns Sarah, then yes I am."

"Don't-" Kershaw sighed. "You can't call her that."

Harm squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down. He knew Kershaw was right - he'd have to play by their rules if he wanted to ensure Mac's safety. A figurative light bulb went off in his head. He opened his eyes and look to Mac, who was watching his face the whole time.

"What if she went on a vacation?" Harm asked. "A trip to Mexico? It would serve a dual purpose. She goes on the trip with him … Meanwhile, he can be gathering intel from some transactions with Salim's known associates. Then, she meets me down there, a lonely gringo … he catches us in an affair. He annuls the marriage," Harm cringed at the thought of Jason being married to Mac. "After the annulment is processed, he returns to San Diego and has enough information to take Salim down. She comes to live with me in the Midwest, where there's more corn than people, or in a cabin in Alaska, far away from society. She stays with me under my protection until Salim is in custody. Problem solved."

The room was eerily quiet as no one responded. Kershaw's eyes narrowed, staring at Harm from across the coffee table. Harm watched as Kershaw pressed his thumb and forefinger to his temples, rubbing small circles on his skin. Baffled, Jason approached the others, shocked that Kershaw didn't dismiss the idea.

"You're insane if you think that will work," said Jason.

"You got anything better?" Harm replied, eyeing the well-built CIA agent.

"What about Frannie?" Mac asked softly, worrying for her friend.

"She'll have to believe that you and Jason are still married, and trying to go on vacation to solve your marital issues," Kershaw said to Mac. "Then, when you're down there, you meet up with Harm, who you leave your husband for." Mac saw Jason's angered reaction to Kershaw's statement and nodded, still concerned for her friend. Sensing this, Kershaw added. "We'll put a team on surveillance to ensure her safety. She won't know about them, but we'll keep an eye on her."

"Then, it's settled," Mac said, standing. Harm stood next to her, keeping his eye on Jason. "Book the trip," she added to Kershaw, who nodded, flipping open his phone to arrange the plan.

Jason stepped forward toward Harm, who instinctively pushed Mac behind him as he faced he agent. "She needs to come home with me," Jason said, peering around his shoulder at Mac. "It won't be convincing otherwise. Besides, she needs to pack a bag and change."

"I'll drive her," Harm said without thinking.

"Harm, you can't," Mac said softly. "It won't work if you do."

Knowing she was right, Harm's fist tightened by his side, angry at the thought of Mac having to be alone with Jason. "Fine," he muttered, glaring at Jason. "But if you touch her-"

"Harm, I'll be fine," Mac assured him, placing her hand on the back of his arm. Looking over to Jason, she added, "Can we have a minute?"

Without waiting for a response, Harm pulled Mac into his master bedroom and shut the door, clicking the lock shut. He took a few steps toward where her cocktail dress hung on the tall armoire, gently lifting the dress off and handing it to her. He turned away from her as she stripped the chemise she was wearing, slipping back into the wrinkled dress and heels she wore the night before. She was zipping up the side of her dress when she saw Harm turn back to look at her, his eyes searching hers.

She crossed toward him, reaching toward his face and stroking his cheek with her hand. He captured her hand with his, pressing the palm of her hand against his lips and kissing it. "I'm sorry," she murmured. He wrapped his arms around her small waist, drawing her closer to him so he could kiss her softly, then with intensity and hunger. When their kiss came to its natural conclusion, Harm pulled away enough to look into Mac's eyes.

"Take this," he said, pressing a pocket knife into her hand that he retrieved from his bag. Her brow creased as she looked down at the knife, then back up to his eyes.

"Harm, I have a gun at the house," she said softly.

"It … would make me feel better if you carried this with you at all times," he said softly.

She nodded in agreement, not wanting to worry him. "I will." She dropped the folded knife into her clutch, snapping it shut.

Neither wanted to be the first to leave, but as she heard Jason's irritated voice outside the room, she knew she had to go. Giving him a soft kiss on the cheek, she began to walk toward the door to leave, but he took her arm and drew her close for one final embrace and deep kiss before letting her go.

He followed her out of the bedroom and watched her walk toward Kershaw and Jason, who Harm caught scanning Mac's body with his eyes. Determined not to make matters worse for Mac, he clenched his fist and forced his anger to subside.

Kershaw turned to him before the left his apartment. "We'll contact you at 1800 hours. In the meantime, I suggest you wrap up any loose ends you may have and book your trip. We leave tonight."

And just like that, they were gone. Harm watched Mac leave until he couldn't see her anymore, silently cursing himself for letting her out of his sight for the second time. Shutting the door a little harder than necessary, Harm walked into his bedroom and stared at the rumpled sheets. Willing himself to do what was necessary, Harm He hoped and prayed 1800 hours would come fast as he packed a bag for what would come next.


	8. Chapter 8

1905 Zulu  
>Callejon Sin Salida<br>Tiajuana, Mexico

Harm liked his plan less and less as time ticked on without word from Mac, Kershaw or Jason about their whereabouts. He knew he would have to travel separately - and that Kershaw would slip into the country by himself as well - but it was killing him to not know where Mac was, what she was doing, or what Jason was doing while she was with him. Sipping his glass of locally made tequila, he shut his eyes and tried to focus on the lively music and chatter that surrounded him.

He wasn't surprised to see quite a few tourists in the mass of people inside the bar, knowing Tiajuana was a popular day trip for most in the Baja, California area. There were college students, groups of single women, and of course plenty of locals looking for a night of fun. The _Callejon Sin Salida _certainly suited its name from the inside - Harm roughly translated it to mean "Dead End Alley," his suspicions confirmed as several overly intoxicated people were kicked out by an imposingly large bouncer by the door.

The bar was the rendezvous point which Harm was suppose to "first see" Mac at, since the bar was known to be a hangout for a couple of Salim's contacts in Tiajuana. Though, without Mac there, who was to review the photos of the men the CIA had been tracking on the trip down, he had no clue who they were. Until she came and openly flirted with him, pretending not to know who he was, Harm played the role of a lonely gringo on the prowl.

His wait ended as he saw her enter the bar wearing a bright white dress with turquoise embroidery, her tanned skin glowing and her long reddish hair draped over her shoulders in loose waves. As she crossed toward the opposite side of the bar from where Harm was seated, Harm noticed a host of males tracking her every step with their hungry eyes. Of course, he had to lump himself in that category as well.

"Agua tónica con un toque de lima, por favor," Mac said sweetly to the male bar tender, who nodded with a silly grin, overwhelmed by her beauty to the point of being unable to act normally. As she tucked a lock of hair behind her ears, she felt Harm's presence closing in on her as he walked up behind her, seating himself next to her.

"I've got that," he said, slapping some pesos on the counter. Mac smiled over at him, her eyes sparkling as they made contact with his.

"Thanks," she murmured. "But just so you don't get any ideas, you're too late," she added, lifting her left hand and showing him her ring.

Though he knew she was only playing her role, he mentally cringed at the sight of the ring. "That's too bad," Harm replied, sipping his tequila and leaning back in his stool. "Your husband must be a very stupid man, though."

"Why would you say that?" Mac asked with the appropriate amount of disdain in her voice.

"Any man would be to let you out of his sight," he said lowly, sipping his drink again.

"My husband has business here. He is visiting clients of his."

"Oh really?" Harm leaned forward. "Well, sweet thing, if his clients are more important than protecting the woman he's with, then he ISa stupid man."

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't need protection," she stated, sipping her drink the bartender handed her. "My father was an Army General."

"Ooh," Harm said sarcastically, placing his glass on the bar. "Well I guess you're tough, huh?" When she didn't reply, he stood, placing himself impossibly close to her and whispering in her ear, "Too tough to dance, bonita?"

After staring him in the eye, Mac set her drink down on the bar, knowing she would have to order fresh again if need be, since she didn't trust anyone not to drug it. She took Harm's hand, and he led her out onto the small open area where some couples were already gathered, swaying to the melodic sounds of the local band crooning a popular Spanish serenade.

Taking her to the far right corner of the floor, Harm pulled Mac close to him, smiling at her surprise as he ran his hands down to rest on her hips. As they danced, he leaned close to her ear and began to whisper the translation of the song, "La Nave del Olvido" he had heard many times before.

"_Espera,_  
>(Wait)<em><br>aún la nave del olvido no ha partido_  
>(The ship to oblivion hasn't sailed)<em><br>no condenemos al naufragio lo vivido_  
>(let's not blame what we have been through on the shipwreck)<em><br>por nuestro ayer,  
><em>(for the sake of the old times)  
>por nuestro amor, yo te lo pido<br>(for the sake of our love, I beg you)"

As Harm pressed his body as close as possible to Mac, he heard her moan softly and took it as a cue to continue leading her as they skimmed over the floor.

"_Espera,_  
>(Wait)<em><br>aún me quedan en mis manos primaveras_  
>(there are still springs within my hands)<em><br>para colmarte de caricias todas nuevas_  
>(to pamper you with brand new caresses)<em><br>que morirían en mis manos si te fueras_  
>(that would die in my hands if you were to go away)"<p>

It was at this point that Mac finally understood the reason why women were so attracted to him. He had a magnetism that she simply couldn't break free from. She felt intoxicated as they danced, his fingers trailing up and down her lower back and hips.

"_Espera un poco, un poquito más_  
>(Wait for a little while, just a little bit longer)<em><br>para llevarte mi felicidad_  
>(so I can deliver my happiness to you)<em><br>espera un poco, un poquito más_  
>(Wait for a little while, just a little bit longer)<em><br>me moriría si te vas_  
>(I would die if you go away)"<p>

As the chorus repeated, Harm brushed a kiss onto Mac's ear, aware he might be taking his role too far too fast. He simply couldn't help himself as he swayed with her, crooning the lyrics that reflected his heart so well to her. He continued to brush kisses on her neck in between phrases, trying to elicit a response from her. He knew he succeeding as he felt her hands run through his hair, similar to how they did on that cold night in February.

"_Espera,_  
>(Wait)<em><br>aún me quedan alegrías para darte,_  
>(I still have many joys to give you)<em><br>tengo mil noches de amor que regalarte,_  
>(I have a thousand love nights I'd like to give you)<em><br>te doy mi vida a cambio de quedarte_  
>(I give you my life in exchange for staying here)"<p>

"_Espera,_  
>(Wait)<em><br>no entendería mi mañana si te fueras_  
>(I wouldn't comprehend my tomorrow if you were to go away)<em><br>y hasta te admito que tu amor me lo mintieras,_  
>(And even if you were just pretending to love me, I'd gladly accept it)<em><br>te adoraría aunque tú no me quisieras._  
>(Even if you didn't love me, I would adore you all the same)<em><br>Espera un poco …"_

"Wait for a little while …" Harm finished softly, looking deep into Mac's eyes. Neither moved, despite the song's end and the beginning of a more lively folk melody. People danced around them as they stood frozen, both their hearts racing uncontrollably. Harm's hands were still firmly planted on her hips, her arms around his neck with her fingers laced together.

"Marry me."

Mac blinked slowly, unsure whether she had just heard Harm correctly. She felt herself begin to get dizzy, the shock of those two small words hitting her like a brick wall.

"Marry me," he repeated, inches away from her face. As she managed to look into his eyes, Mac's mouth hung open. She wasn't imagining what he just said. He actually proposed - twice.

"I ...I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm already taken," she said after a long moment, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"Marry me," he repeated, whispering softly in her ear. When his lips found the small space under her ear on her neck, she jumped, her whole being over-sensitized by his new-found bravery. She wondered in her mind if he really meant what he said, feeling her heart race at the thought.

"I … I have to go. My husband is probably almost done with-"

"Stay with me," Harm said, tightening his grip on her as she tried to leave.

"I have to go," she replied, regretting her words.

Neither spoke for what seemed like an eternity; Harm continued to hold onto Mac tightly, unwilling to release her from his grasp. He felt like she would slip away again - he couldn't bear to lose her for a second time.

Inhaling for courage, Mac pressed close to Harm, reaching up to him to kiss his cheek. She lingered there for a moment, her breath warm against his skin. "Kareem Adair, six o'clock. Provides diamonds for delivering chemical compounds. Me, Lucerna hotel, room 225… come before 2100," she whispered, pressing another kiss on her cheek. She shuddered a little as she freed herself from Harm's grasp, his warm hands sliding off of her lower back. She could barely think straight as she turned and walked to the door, leaving Harm on the dance floor dazed and bewitched.

Trying to focus on the task at hand, Harm began to walk back to the bar, concocting a plan as he went. He ordered another glass of tequila and almost drank half the glass at once as he thought about how much he'd rather run to the Lucerna hotel than try to make nice with Kareem Adair, who he spotted in the exact location Mac had told him. Kareem was one of Sadim's known associates - a way into Sadim's world. He knew he had to help Jason and Kershaw find Sadim if he wanted to ensure Mac's safety and her ability to return to her old life in DC.

Polishing off his second glass of tequila, he pretended to have had more than his fair share of alcoholic beverages, sloppily leaving the bar and heading toward the corner where Kareem sat with a couple other men. Conveniently, they were seated near a back door exit, so Harm wandered toward the door, well aware of the men watching him.

"Women," he muttered as he got closer to them. "All the same."

"Some troubles, my friend?" said one of the men with a smile in a foreign middle eastern accent, inhaling a drag of a cigar.

"She's already married," Harm replied, running his hands through his hair.

"Ah," the man said with a nod. "Of course, it must be no surprise to you. She was quite beautiful."

"You're telling me!" Harm said, putting his hands on his hips. "So where's a lonely gringo suppose to find a woman who _isn't _married?" he asked, throwing the bait out to the group of men.

The men laughed, and Harm noted that even Kareem cracked a smile. "Ah, the women of Tiajuana …" the man who had spoken first said, smiling. "If they aren't married, they are diseased."

Harm's eyebrows raised. "Well …" he said, "I guess women are out of the question."

Kareem leaned forward, sensing an opportunity. "You say this woman you desire is married, yes?" Harm nodded. "Women … no matter where they come from, they are all the same."

"What do you mean?"

"The way to a woman's heart is through diamonds," Kareem said with a smile. "You bring her a diamond, she loves you forever."

Amping up his faux drunken state a little more, Harm leaned in, pretending to stumble. One of the other men grabbed his shirt before he could topple onto him. "Too much local tequila," the man said, causing the group to laugh.

"I can't afford diamonds," Harm said, adding a slight slur into his speech.

"Ah, no worries, my friend," Kareem replied. "Let's talk outside, yes? I will tell you how to get diamonds."

Harm straightened up as Kareem stood, along with two of the men from the table. Patting Harm on the back, Kareem led Harm out the back exit into an alley that was poorly lit and even more poorly kept clean. "I can get you diamonds," Kareem said. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bag. He poured a few stones out onto his palm, showing them to Harm. "Beautiful, yes?" Kareem asked, putting them back in the bag.

"How much are you asking?" Harm asked, peering over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching.

"My price … it is very reasonable. I only ask to have you deliver goods for me."

"What kind of goods?"

"Nothing you wouldn't already find in the United States," Kareem said in a low voice. "I have a friend who lives in Baja. You bring him the supply, I give you diamonds." Harm was surprised as Kareem handed him a large stone. "I even give you one before the deal is done. There will be many more upon your successful delivery."

"Who's your contact?" Harm asked, curious.

Kareem smiled. "No names."

"Then how can I do my job if I don't know who I'm delivering to?" Harm asked. He saw the resistance in Kareem's expression and added, "Besides, it's not like I haven't done this before. I mean, hell … you should believe in fate, my friend … I've done business with a man named Jason Healy before. Ring a bell?"

Kareem licked his lips, and peered into Harm's eyes. "Jason Healy, you say?" he asked. "Well, my friend, it seems we have a similar past, yes?"

Harm smiled, knowing Kareem knew Jason through his cover as a dirty insurance company owner. "It seems we do." Harm lifted up the two carat diamond he was given, examining it. "You think she will like this?" Harm asked.

Kareem smiled. "Oh yes."

"I'm not ready to go back over the border, though," Harm said, pocketing the diamond. "But, I will be leaving two days from now. I can deliver your goods then."

"Very good," Kareem said. "You will meet me here at 8 o'clock in the evening in two days." As Harm stepped to leave, Kareem caught his arm. "Don't bring any friends. And don't be late," he warned.

Harm nodded and walked down the alley, fully aware of his surroundings as he made his way to a taxi. He didn't want to get mugged for the diamond he now carried in his pocket.

Climbing in the taxi, Harm handed the driver a wad of pesos. "Lucerna hotel. Rapido, por favor," he said, anxious to reach his destination.

The driver peered at Harm through his rear view mirror with a smile. "Of course," he said, turning on the ignition. "Anything for you, Mister Rabb."

Harm's eyes widened as he heard the perfect stranger say his name like he knew him for- It was in that moment that Harm realized he did, in fact, know the driver. It was his neighbor who he saw early that morning, the one who asked for the landlord's phone number for repairs.

In that split second of recognition, his mind also connected other facts about the events of the past 48 hours with incredible speed. His breath quickened, aware of the danger that had been present all along, but was hidden under the perfect guise.

Harm reached for his gun, which he kept hidden in the back of the waist of his jeans, and tried to exit the vehicle at the same time. However, he was unable to do both at once and opted for just leaving. Quicker than he could react, the opposite door opened and Harm cringed at the stab of pain he felt as a needle was driven deep into his flesh by a second man, injecting a drug that made him slump over, unconscious as the vehicle tore off into the night.


	9. Chapter 9

2017 Zulu  
>Room 255<br>Lucerna Hotel

Though something in her mind should have triggered suspicion over the pounding she heard on her hotel room's door, Mac opened the door without looking into the peephole, still dressed in her outfit she wore out that evening, counting on the visitor to be Harm.

She was, instead, surprised to see Jason, the sleeves of his button up shirt scrunched up and his pants wrinkles, shoes dirty. He shut behind him with force, walking across the room toward where the phone was. "Jason!" Mac said, watching him. "What's wrong?"

When he didn't respond, Mac got a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Jason?" she asked, taking a step toward him.

"Sarah," Jason finally replied calmly, his back still to her, "I'm surprised at you."

Mac's lips parted as she watched him, trying to figure out what he meant. "What do you mean?" she asked, her mind racing as she realized that for the first time since she met him, he called her by her real first name. She stepped quietly to the side of the bed she was planning on sleeping on, her fingers reached for her 9mm Sig Sauer.

When Jason spun around to face Mac, she grabbed the gun and aimed it into the shadows, warning him, "Don't move!"

Mac heard defiant footsteps approaching her, and she cocked the gun, giving him a second warning. "I will shoot!" As Mac's eyes adjusted to the nearly black room, she saw that Jason was smiling at her.

"Relax, Sarah," Jason said, stepping closer.

"Damnit, Jason, I will shoot you if you don't tell me what's going on!" Mac said, irritated.

"But you won't, though," Jason said, smiling. He was now standing directly in front of her; he wrapped his hand over the barrel of the gun. "Not if you want him to live."

Mac's lips parted as the breath she had been holding released itself in fear. "What are you talking about?" She lifted her aim a little higher, Jason's hand still wrapped around the barrel of the gun.

His laugh was dark; it sent a chill up her spine. "Did you really believe it all, Sarah? Hmm? Never had any doubts?" The way he looked at her made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "For a Marine, I'm surprised you didn't have more questions." Jason pulled at the gun. "Give it to me, Sarah. His life depends on it."

Stunned and sick to her stomach, her grip loosened on her weapon and he pulled it from her hands, grabbing her upper arm with force. She winced, feeling the nose of her gun jabbed into her side. "Where's Harm?" she asked, the anger rising as she connected the dots around her.

"Oh, he's elsewhere." Jason led Mac toward the bed, shoving her down onto it. He climbed over top of her, pinning her down with his hand and pressing the gun to the side of her head. "Mmm," he moaned, pressing his body down on hers. She whimpered, trying to resist him though he pressed the gun against her head. "Don't fight me," he growled, twisting her arm backwards. Moaning in pain, she reached forward to bite his arm. As she sank her teeth into his forearm, he yelled, releasing her. However, as soon as she tried to escape, he whacked her hard across her face, gripped her hair and pulled her head up off the bed. He cocked the gun, pressing it with force against her head. "You little bitch," he sneered, his body still pinning her down. "I guess you don't care whether he lives or not, do you?"

"Where is he?" she yelled, crying out in pain as he pulled her hair tighter, lifting her head up further off the bed.

"If you want to know, you'd better do what I want," Jason replied with a dark smile.

"What do you want?" Mac asked, breathing heavily as she glared at Jason.

"Oh, there's a lot I want, Sarah," Jason whispered, pressing a kiss onto her neck. She winced at his contact, the tears building in her eyes. "What I want most, though, is to see you suffer."

"Why?" she asked, confused. "I thought you were-"

"Stationed to protect you?" Jason finished, laughing. "It was the perfect guise, wasn't it? All I had to do was convince Kershaw you were in danger, and the rest is history. You know, you have quite the rep at the CIA, Sarah. They seem to like you over there."

Mac was silent as she tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. "You knew Harm was here," she stated, realizing more of the answers by the second.

"Of course," Jason replied. "I've had a friendly neighborhood spy watching him. And you." He pressed himself lower on top of her as he felt her shift her position.

"Why me?" she asked, hating the pleasure she saw on his face as their bodies were forced together.

"Why you?" He asked, amused. "Sarah _…_ you don't know how much of a commotion you caused by taking out Sadik, do you?" Mac turned her face away from Jason as he moved his lips closer to her. "I was assigned to monitor Salim well before you and Clayton Webb were even in Paraguay. I spent two years out in the cold _…_ TWO YEARS, SARAH _…_ watching that low life bastard. You think Webb's isolation was bad? It was NOTHING _…_ compared to that." Forcing her to look at him, Jason continued. "Then you and Webb make contact with Sadik. And later, you kill him. Just when I thought I would be able to come out of the cold _…_ Kershaw makes me stay." Mac's lips were pressed together as she watched Jason hovering right above her, her worry and anger for Harm building. "It was hell, Sarah. HELL." He released the fistful of hair he was holding in his hand, trailing his fingers down the side of her body. "And so lonely, Sarah _…_" He laughed as she winced, trying to move away from his touch.

"If you want to take it out on me, then do it," Mac said, her voice cold and firm. "But let Harm go."

"Oh, I don't think you understand the magnitude of how perfect this whole situation really is for me," Jason replied, twisting her arm backward again and laughing at her pain. "See, I'm looking forward to watching him suffer just as much as I'm going to enjoy making you suffer." He laughed again, licking his lips. "It will all be so well covered. A chemical weapon trade gone wrong for him _…_ I mean, how did you think he was able to meet up with Kareem Adair so easily? I paid him, Sarah. I paid him to make contact with the Commander. No one will suspect me when he turns up dead." Jason paused, moving the gun to trail the nose of it down the side of Mac's neck, then to her bosom. "As for you, you'll just be another unfortunate tourist victim of rape and murder. But just to make it all so much worse for you, I'll save the decision of the first part up to Rabb."

"You wouldn't," Mac breathed, swallowing.

"I'm sure that Rabb will choose to give his own life for you over watching me with you _…_"

"Leave him out of this!" Mac screamed. "Do what you want with me, but let him go!"

"I make the rules here, Sarah!" Jason sneered, yanking her up off the bed by her hair, the gun still pressed against her head. "The best part," he continued, pulling her body against him and whispering in her ear, "will be when he realizes as he lays dying that I'll still have my way with you. It'll be the last thing he sees."

"You sick bastard," Mac growled.

"Actually, I think it's pretty clever," Jason replied. "Then, I won't have you or Rabb to interfere with anything."

"Harm hasn't done anything! Let him go!"

"Oh really? You call blowing your cover, my cover and everybody else's cover NOTHING?" Jason forced Mac toward the door. "That bastard spent the last six weeks ruining the last FOUR YEARS of my work. And you _…_ you kept me there in that goddamn hell hole. I can't wait to watch him squirm."

Turning Mac toward him, Jason cocked the gun as they stood in front of the door. "I've got a man watching Harm. You try anything, and I'll forgo the fun of seeing him suffer and just have him killed. Got it?"

Mac was quiet as they left the room, praying a silent prayer for Harm as they got into Jason's car and left.

xxxxxxxxxx

2120 Zulu

His eyes slowly opened, pain suddenly racking his body with his awakening. His head throbbed as he focused on what surrounded him. He couldn't tell where he was, but he felt the tightness of the ropes that bound him, his fingers brushing against a metal pole behind his back he was connected to. Swallowing, his eyes shot open at the same thought that had been in his head before he fell unconscious. "Mac!" he yelled, his voice raspy from his dry throat. He pulled on the ropes that kept him on his knees, unable to move. "Where is she?" he screamed at the man he saw in front of him.

The man approached him, a large automatic weapon in hand. "Callate!" he yelled, kicking Harm in the stomach. Harm groaned, coughing as the wind was knocked out of him. Harm was about to yell again when he heard and saw the door open. He held his breath as he heard two familiar voices, though it was hard to see the figures approaching him in the darkened room. Harm knew Mac was near, though, from the sensation of her presence.

"Mac! Mac!" he said, his voice pained with worry and physical exhaustion. He sighed deeply as he felt her soft hands moving over his face, carefully tracing the edge of a head wound he hadn't noticed in his few moments of consciousness. "Mac, are you alright?" he asked, trying to move toward her, but held in place by the awkward position his body was crumpled in.

"Harm _…_." He felt her breath close to his face, his eyes making out her outline. It was then he realized the room wasn't as dark as he was experiencing, rather it was the haze of the drug he was administered wearing off. He used every ounce of energy he had to try to fight the ropes to protect her, but as he saw Jason approaching, he knew it was too late.

"Mac, he's not - MAC!" Harm's eyes widened when he saw Jason grab her and yank her away from him. "Let her go!" he yelled, fighting against the ropes that bound him.

"I can't do that, Commander," Jason replied, holding Mac a few feet in front of Harm. "I've got plans for the both of you. Besides," Jason said, cocking the gun against Mac's head in front of Harm, "you are only making one decision tonight."

"Look, don't hurt her _…_ whatever you want, it's yours _…_ just let her go," Harm pleaded, his voice strained.

"You know how messy you've made this, Rabb," Jason said, tilting his head to the side as he watched Harm struggle with his bindings. "You potentially ruined everything I've done for the last four years! So why on earth would I decide to let you bargain with me?"

Anger burned in Harms eyes. "I know you set this whole thing up _…_ everything. Salim Fahd was never a threat to Mac, was he? You played her to get her alone. You were pissed at her for extending your post over Salim. Let me guess _…_ Salim is already dead. You used the cover of protecting Mac to ensure you'd get the trades you organized to supposedly 'catch Salim'?"

"Very good, Commander," Jason said mockingly. "Except you forgot the part about the shitload of money I've acquired by helping some of our border neighbors out with chemical supplies."

Harm saw Mac's lips part, registering the information. Jason had managed to fool everyone, Kershaw, the Navy, and the CIA included, while collecting countless amounts of money from selling secrets and weapons he had once sworn to protect. Everything that had happened - her life erased, the hell she and Harm went through - all for money.

Mac's eyes filled with anger, unconcerned about being held at gunpoint. She felt taken advantage of; she felt rage at the pain she saw in Harm's eyes. Without thinking, she shoved her elbow into Jason's stomach, spun around and kicked him, furious. In the moments Jason was taken by surprise, she grabbed her gun, racing to Harm's side. She clicked and locked her aim onto Jason, who recovered, peering angrily at her. "Don't move!" she warned, kneeling beside Harm. Her left hand held the gun aimed at Jason while her right fumbled with untying the ropes binding Harm.

She heard another gun clicking to lock onto them and saw the other man aiming at Harm. "Put the gun down, Sarah _…_" Jason said, watching as Harm rubbed his sore wrists. "You don't want to do anything stupid."

Mac stood, keeping her gun trained on Jason. "Tell him to lower his weapon," she said, nodding toward the man who was aiming his automatic weapon at Harm.

"Sarah _…_"

"DO IT!"

"Pedro _…_ lo dejó," Jason said, his jaw flexing as he kept his focus on Mac. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man called Pedro slowly lower his weapon to the floor, watching Harm intently. Harm turned to look at Mac, who had now taken another step closer to Jason.

"Up against the wall!" Mac demanded to Jason, who raised his arms slightly with a smirk.

"As you wish," Jason replied, his voice dark and suggestive. Jason backed against the wall, still facing her. As she approached him, Mac kicked the automatic weapon in Harm's direction, who quickly snagged it and aimed it at Pedro, keeping his eye on Jason.

Though she should have anticipated that Jason would play dirty, Mac underestimated his strength as he overpowered her, quickly turning the tables on the situation as he pressed the gun to her head, drawing her close against his body as he was pressed on the wall. Harm's focus immediately switched to Jason, training his gun on him in horror.

"Commander," Jason said, twisting Mac's arm further behind her, "don't make the same mistake as Sarah did."

"Shoot him, Harm!" Mac yelled, wincing as Jason's tightened his grip in response.

"Shoot me, Rabb, and I blow her brains out!"

"Do it, Harm! Shoot him!" Mac yelled again, this time buckling at the knees under the intense pain Jason afflicted.

"Let her go!" Harm yelled, his breathing ragged.

"I mean it, Rabb! I'll kill her! You don't know how many times I've come so close to it before _…_" Jason cocked the gun for emphasis, digging the nose of it further into Mac's hair.

"Alright!" Harm yelled, panicked at the sight in front of him. "I'm lowering my weapon," he said, slowly stooping to put the gun on the ground.

"HARM! DON'T!" Mac yelled, catching Harm's eyes as he ascended, the weapon sitting on the ground in front of him.

"I told you he'd do anything," Jason said in a low voice, smiling toward Harm. Quicker than both could register, Jason pointed the cocked gun at Pedro and shot him in the head, killing him instantly. Mac gasped as the man slumped to the ground, blood pouring out of his head. "That was a warning, Rabb," Jason said, pushing Mac forward as he approached Harm, still pressing the gun against her. "Don't do anything stupid," he warned. "Kick the gun this way."

Harm's eyes were wide as he searched Mac's eyes, the stress of the situation playing all over his face. Jason was wild, unpredictable and dangerous. Harm couldn't calculate his next move, nor could he guarantee Mac was safe so long as he complied. However, he couldn't figure out what to do about his partner's current situation. He didn't want to risk her life. He wouldn't do that to her. He'd rather die in her place. With hesitation, he kicked the gun toward Jason, who tossed it far away from all three of them.

"You want to shoot someone? Shoot me," Harm said, his hands raised as he took a step closer to where Jason was.

Jason laughed. "That would take all the fun out of things, Commander," he replied. "I will kill you, in good time _…_ but first, you have a choice to make." Lifting Mac's chin up with the gun, Jason continued, "You can either choose to take the bullet for her and I let her go, or you can let her take the bullet for you and I walk away."

Harm breathed heavily, assessing the situation. "If I take the bullet, you won't hurt her?" he asked, scanning Mac's wide eyes.

"Of course not," Jason said with a smile. "I'll be very gentle with her."

"You let her go and you can shoot me," Harm said, taking another slow step toward Jason.

"Okay."

The shot rang through the room simultaneously with Mac's panicked scream. Harm slumped forward, feeling the blood from his wound trickle down his shirt. Mac's desperate cries became softer and more blurred as he fell to his knees, clutching his side where the bullet had lodged itself.

"You bastard!" Mac screamed, failing her arms and kicking at Jason, who shoved her to the ground and ripped her dress off of her torso. She saw Harm's eyes fixed on her, horror filling them as he realized what Jason was going to do to her. Through the intense pain, he lunged at Jason in an attempt to rescue Mac, but was kicked away by Jason. Harm fell down, the blood rushing more freely out of his side than before. He moaned in pain as Jason made contact with Harm's wound, his head heavy as he saw Jason unbuttoning his pants. Mac was pinned under Jason, the gun pressed against her head. She fought like hell to try to escape, but seemed to be further away from success with every attempt. As she felt Jason trying to manipulate her dress, she rolled her head toward Harm and looked into his eyes.

Harm's eyes met Mac's in horror as he realized she stopped fighting. She was going to let him _…_ No. She couldn't. She couldn't! He cried out in pain, pulling himself on the ground as he tried to reach her, watching as Jason's hands roamed over Mac's body, tearing at her clothes. It was too much for him to bear; he felt the tears of pain for Mac roll down his face, unconcerned for his current state and only concerned for hers.

As Jason lowered himself onto Mac, Harm gasped as he saw Jason freeze, the man's eyes widening in pain and horror. Underneath him, Harm saw Mac pressing the blade of the knife he had given her earlier that morning deep into Jason's chest, the blood running down her hands and onto her barely covered body. Jason moaned, releasing his grip on the gun and fell over to the side of Mac as she let go of the knife's handle, her breathing labored. With all her might, she pushed herself away from him on the floor, being caught in Harm's arms. Gripping her gun tightly, she aimed it with a shaky arm at Jason until she saw his eyes close, the last bit of life leaving his body.

Her grip loosened slowly on the gun, her body shaking in fear and exhaustion as she stared at Jason's lifeless body, the knife Harm had given her deeply implanted in Jason's chest. The gun fell to the floor, slipping from her quivering hands. She turned to Harm, whose breathing was labored and was covered in his own blood.

"Harm! Harm, stay with me," she pleaded, tearing part of her dress and pressing the fabric to his wound. He moaned in pain, unable to speak. "Harm!" she begged, desperate to keep him conscious. "Harm, please _…_ Please stay with me! Harm _…_ I love you. Please _…_ hold on. Please _…_ Harm, I will marry you. I will marry you! But you have to stay with me. Please _…_"

"You _…_ will?" Harm breathed, looking into her eyes.

"Yes! Harm, please _…_ please stay-"

"You will _…_ marry _…_ me?"

"Yes _…_ I will marry you," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.


	10. Chapter 10

November 15, 2005  
>1926 Zulu<p>

"Are you sure you don't need any help, Mrs. Rabb?"

"For the last time, Sarah … please, call me Trish. Or Mom, if you'd like."

Mac smiled and tucked a piece of her newly dyed dark brown hair behind her ear, relishing the warmth of the Burnett home as she sat on a stool in the kitchen, watching Trish complete the finishing touches on dinner for that evening.

"Besides, Sarah … you need to rest." Trish turned and looked at Mac, who smiled at her kind gesture. Since Harm had been released from the hospital three weeks prior, Mac hadn't slept more than three hours a night, making sure she was there for Harm's every need. Besides, when she wasn't tending to Harm's nightmares, she was experiencing her own every time she closed her eyes. Things were getting better as time went on, but the last seven months were hard to erase for both of them.

Kershaw was devastated with the events that occurred, as blind to Jason's ulterior motives as Harm and Mac were. It was a fairly quick process to restore Mac's identity, which he did without question. There, of course, was added stress as Mac received more phone calls from her friends in JAG than she ever had before, having to relive the horrors of the last seven months with each explanation. Kershaw managed to recover many of the stolen chemicals and weapons, but knew the battle would be an ongoing on to clean up the mess Jason made.

General Cresswell refused to take either of the two senior attorneys back at JAG until after Christmas, donating to them an extra 30 days leave each from his own banked amount. Both were grateful for the extra time away, and Trish and Frank were delighted to have Harm and Mac spend the Christmas holiday with them in San Diego.

Trish had been more of a mother figure than Mac had ever known, being embraced into the family with fullness and love. Mac admired the woman for her resilience, for her courage and for her generous spirit that enveloped Mac as if she were her daughter.

"I'm fine, Trish," Mac said softly, meeting the older woman's eyes with her own. Trish shook her head with a smile, a gesture a mother might do to a child who she knew was lying.

"Sarah, you can't fool me. Anyway, Harmon told me how guilty he feels over the lack of sleep you've been experiencing. He said he's tried to get you to stay with me, knowing you'd be able to get some sleep … but he also said you won't leave his side for more than a half hour."

Mac sighed, playing with her hands on her lap to avoid eye contact with Trish. "I … I lost him once. I can't lose him again."

Trish set the spoon she was holding down on the counter, wiped her hands and crossed toward Mac. "Sarah … you won't lose him," she said tenderly, taking Mac's hands into hers. "I won't let you." Mac looked up, tears welling in her eyes. She laughed softly, seeing Trish's knowing smile. "You're perfect for my son. And he knows that. He's told me as much. I doubt he'll ever forget it, but I'll see to it that he doesn't."

Mac smiled. "Thank you," she said, enjoying the motherly love being bestowed on her.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Both women turned toward the voice that came from the patio entrance door. Harm stepped into the kitchen cautiously, his eyes fixed on Mac. He saw her tears that glistened on her cheeks and instantly began to worry. "Are you okay?" he asked, crossing to her. Harm looked at his mother, who smiled, releasing Mac's hands and walked back to the other side of the kitchen, giving the two some space.

"I'm fine," Mac replied, giving Harm a small smile. Harm took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her skin in small circles. He let go with his right hand to wipe away the reminder of tears from her face.

"Are you sure?" he questioned, seeing the dark circles under her eyes through the concealer she used. He knew she was worn out - she wouldn't sleep, wouldn't leave his side, though he begged her to for her sake to rest. He was still recovering from the gunshot wound he received, taking heavy doses of painkillers that induced nightmares of all the events from the last several months. She would wake up when he did, soothing him back to sleep as she wiped the sweat from his brow. He knew she hardly slept, since she was always awake before him.

"I'm fine," Mac repeated softly, giving Harm's hands a squeeze. From the time she initially left DC up to this very moment, she couldn't exactly recall when the last time she had a full night's sleep was. The last restful period of sleep she recalled was after she and Harm made love that night after the gala. That was over a month ago, and she knew the signs of her sleep deprivation were showing. Though she tried with all her might, she couldn't fool Harm.

"Liar," he whispered, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry? For trying to protect me?"

"For putting you through hell," he whispered, searching her eyes.

"I think we've both been through hell for quite a while," she murmured, standing. "You should be resting," she chided, leading him back to the door he came from.

"I'm fine, Mom," he joked softly to her alone, taking her into his arms. He pressed another kiss on the crown of her head, breathing in her comforting scent. "Hey Mom," he called over to Trish, "I'm stealing her."

"She's all yours," Trish said, her eyes sparkling at the sight of her son with Sarah MacKenzie. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

Out on the patio, Frank folded one side of his newspaper down and peered at Harm and Mac, whose hands were linked together, their bodies as close to each other as possible. He smiled. "Beautiful night for a beach walk," he said absentmindedly, turning his focus back to the newspaper. His grin widened as he saw Harm pull Mac toward the shore in front of their home.

Zipping up her sweatshirt, Mac shoved her hands into her pockets as she and Harm strolled the coast, the chilly late autumn air nipping at them through the sea breezes. They walked in silence for a long while, each lost in their own consuming thoughts. Without question, Mac followed Harm as he made his way closer to the waters, picking up a stone and tossing it into the ocean. He looked back at Mac and handed her a stone, the wet rock chilly in her palm.

"Go ahead," he said. "Throw it out there."

After a moment of contemplation, Mac hurled the stone out into the ocean, watching it as it made a miniscule splash in comparison with the vastness of the waters.

"Feel good?" Harm asked, tossing another stone into the retreating waves.

"... Yeah, it did," Mac said, surprise in her voice. She picked up another and threw it a little further than the last one, watching as it disappeared into the dark sea.

"It's everything, Mac," Harm said, turning to her and handing her another stone. He held her hand as it wrapped around the stone, looking into her eyes. "It's the last seven months … hell, it's the last however long it's been to get us to this point. All the sadness, the pain …all of the anger. Fear. Betrayal. Worry. Doubt … Everything." He released her hand, taking the stone he held and examining it. "It's all the times I should've said how much I love you. It's all the regret I have for not telling you sooner."

With force, Harm threw the stone he held far out into the waters, much further than Mac had or even he had before. Mac watched Harm's face as he followed the rock with his eyes, noting the corners of his mouth turn up in satisfaction as he saw it splash into the water.

With tears in her eyes, Mac threw her stone as hard as she could, watching it sail far above the waters. She took Harm's hand as they watched it land into the sea, and he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her wind-tossed hair. She heard him tell her he loved her - twice.

As her hands linked together around him, Mac felt the brush of her ring on her left finger and smiled. Touching the delicate ring gently, she pressed herself further against Harm. The simple gold band shone, the vintage oval cut diamond glittering brightly. The ring had replaced one that Mac couldn't wait to remove, feeling a burden lift when she did. She remembered Harm slipping this new ring - his grandmother Sarah Rabb's ring - onto her finger with reverence and care, his eyes shining as he did. She remembered exactly where they were - tangled up in the sheets of the bed they shared in the afterglow of making love. She remembered him stammering, unsure of whether she meant what she said that night she held him, bleeding and clinging onto life. She was more than happy to reassure him - yes, she had meant each word. She loved him. She would marry him.

With the simple toss of a stone, it was finally all gone. Everything. They each felt the relief of letting go all the painful burdens they carried for years, especially the last seven months' worth. As the ocean winds danced around them, they embraced each other with a newness neither had ever expected or hoped to feel. Neither wanted to let the other go; they clung on to each other and their new-found freedom with intensity, knowing that they would never choose to look back. As the moon illuminated the shores around them, their lips met in a kiss, a sweet taste of even more happiness yet to come.


End file.
